My Evil Veela Mate
by jaeye
Summary: Harry is transformed into a veela, and Voldemort is his mate! [Slash]
1. Chapter 1

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: Oooh… I forgot all about this. Okay, this doesn't belong to me :P I own peanuts.

A/N: I've added a little to this chapter since I uploaded it yesterday… I think it ends better now.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Prologue: Transmogrification

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Potions Classroom/

Harry Potter hated Potions. It was such a miserable subject to learn. It wasn't that it was especially difficult or impossible to do. It was just extremely hard to concentrate on all the steps when you had a slimy nosed git passing by every few minutes to harass you.

Harry stared at Professor Snape's back and glared with all his might, willing him to trip and fall. He glared so hard that he didn't notice the dungbomb that flew over his shoulder until it splashed into his cauldron with a thick sloppy sound. The thick swirly maroon liquid turned an instant ugly yellow-brown and started bubbling and churning fiercely. Oh, shit. Imminent explosion.

He ducked under the desk, his Quidditch honed reflexes saving him from being drenched by the gloop that imploded in the cauldron, which cracked and hurled Transmogrifying potion every which way.

"POTTER!"

"Professor, I didn't- " Harry stood and attempted to pick up what remained of the dungbomb, when suddenly it shimmered and in it's place was a huge juicy dungbeetle. Everything else the potion had drenched had been transmogrified as well, and Harry tried to look as innocent as he could while what remained of his Potions kit made a break for the floor.

"Enough!" Snape looked livid as he crunched a runaway lizard underfoot and waved his wand, changing everything back to normal. Harry winced as he noticed his silver weighing scales under the potion master's boot. "Detention. Tonight, and the following nights until you get this potion right."

"But- "

"But nothing!" He leaned close to Harry, his greasy hair swinging forward to frame his sallow face as his black eyes glittered maliciously. "One more word Potter, and I will suspend you from this class, I don't care what Dumbledore says. You have the gall to play around behind my back, you should at least be man enough to accept your punishment," he sneered before sweeping to the front of the class.

Harry slowly turned around to face Malfoy who he knew had thrown the dung bomb. The blonde Slytherin was stirring his perfectly brewed potion, smirking as he observed Harry's face. Harry decided not to give him the satisfaction of seeing his anger and kept his face smooth. He knew the blonde would be out to get him. Malfoy blamed his rival for getting his father into Azkaban, and had threatened him from the first day on the train. To Harry, it was just another facet of their animosity.

He spent the rest of the lesson clearing and cleaning his table and potions kit, then observing as Hermione finished her potion at the table in front of him. Advanced Potions was a small class and they didn't work in partners. It was just as well, as Harry couldn't have kept up with Hermione and he didn't really know the other people in the class excepting Malfoy. But nothing would have induced him to pair with that pure-blooded bastard.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Great Hall/

Dinner at the Great Hall was a short affair with the joy of detention awaiting him. He spend more time listening to Ron complain about Snape for him and Hermione as she interjected to comment or reprimand Ron for speaking with his mouth full.

Harry was more interested in staring across the Hall at Malfoy. The boy was glaring at him. He watched as Malfoy stabbed a potato with his knife and then pointed the tip at him as he Incendio-ed the tuber, reducing it to charred cinders. He rolled his eyes and ignored him, knowing it would piss him off more.

"Let's transfigure him into a ferret and chuck him into Aragog's nest," Ron snarled as he observed Harry observing the Slytherin.

"Ron! You know we're not supposed to used Transfiguration on people." Hermione reproached.

"I don't care. I know how now. What's the use of learning all this stuff if we never get to use it?" He chuckled darkly and Harry could practically see his thoughts as he remembered Malfoy's stint as a ferret in third year. Ron thought of it as one of the most precious memories he had at Hogwarts.

"Ron!" Hermione opened her mouth to continue, and Harry, sure that a lecture on the importance of learning and the proper use of magic was to follow, quickly got up and interrupted.

"Er, I'm going now, Snape's already left dinner and I don't want to be late." He patted Hermione's bushy head as he passed her by, "And at least Ron's studying, eh, Mione?" he grinned, leaving her to figure out whether it would be best to scold Ron for studying just to know how to beat Malfoy up better, or to be thankful he was finally interested in it. Studying, that is.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Potions Classroom/

At detention, Snape merely ordered him to brew the ruined potion again before leaving him alone.

Harry, thankful for the privacy, set out his repaired cauldron and potions kit on the table and proceeded to complete the potion once and for all.

A couple of hours later, he was done. All that was left was to add in the transmogrification factor, or the essence of the entity that was to be created from the transforming object. But as Snape was going to test their potions himself the last ingredient wasn't needed yet, and so Harry left his potion to simmer and set, satisfied that Snape couldn't penalize him and give another detention. It was so obvious, that the reason why he couldn't always brew proper potions in class was Snape himself. And Malfoy.

"Bloody freaky ferret face," Harry whispered as he smiled down at the glittering crimson potion. "Take that, you git."

"I wouldn't call others freaky if I were you, scarface."

Harry jumped and spun around. Malfoy stood behind him, flanked by his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. "Malfoy," he spat.

"Potty," Malfoy shot back obligingly. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered beside him. "Pity your mudblood bint and weasel sidekick aren't here." He waved his wand and cast a locking spell on the door. "Then you'd have someone to take your curses for you. Just like your wretched fool of a mother and your cowardly father."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he pointed his wand at Malfoy in a dueling stance. "Funny you should say that, when you're the one with Dumb and Dumber as backup. And I don't recall your dad being any kind of hero. He ran like a yellow bellied chicken when Dumbledore came, and I bet even now, he's screaming his guts out at Azkaban."

Malfoy snarled and whipped his wand through the air. "Flipendo!"

The jinx blasted Harry backwards, and he fell, cracking the back of his head against his cauldron. Blood flowed down his neck, and his vision wavered. He scrambled to his feet and aimed his wand at Malfoy. "Pileruo!"

Malfoy's eyes widened as the curse hit him square in the chest, then screamed as chunks of his baby blond hair was ripped out by the roots and sent flying every which way. Unnoticed by Harry, several floated into his cauldron, where upon contact, the potion turned into a lovely glowing pink.

Meanwhile, Malfoy's hands were grasping his remaining hair and he had tears in his eyes. "GET HIM!"

Crabbe and Goyle charged in unison, prepared to pound Harry to the ground. He twirled his wand, "Confundus!"

Crabbe, blasted by the spell, stopped running and flailed as he spun around confusedly. Goyle was smacked in the face by his housemate and the both of them tumbled to the floor, slipping and skidding on bits of blonde hair.

"Reducto!"

Harry looked up, just in time to avoid the curse from Malfoy, however, he realized too late, his potion was a sitting duck. "Acci-"

Before he could summon it, his cauldron exploded once again and he was soaked through with the sweet smelling potion. "Damn you, Malfoy! Furnuncu-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Harry and Malfoy's wands rose up in the air, and landed in Snape's outstretched hand. The potions master loomed in the doorway, beetle black eye's flashing in anger.

"POTTER!" Snape strode into the room. "And Mr. Malfoy." Then he noticed Crabbe and Goyle scrabbling on the floor. "I see the lot of you have nothing better to do than WASTE potion materials," he glared at Harry " and RUIN the potion lab."

"It was Potter's explosion-"

" -_Malfoy_ came and started the fight, sir. I had just finished the potion," Harry tried to explain.

"And ended up wearing it." Snape glared at him, his gaze sweeping up and down Harry's drenched body. "It takes two to fight, Potter, I want no excuses."

Harry sighed and licked his lips, gagging as he tasted the potion. "More detention, sir?"

"Precisely, Potter. You are going to replenish the potions cupboard with shadowroot from the Forbidden Forest. It can only be harvested, in the light of the full moon from the midnight blooming plants, and has to be immediately preserved. I trust you will have no problem," he snapped.

"You, Mr. Malfoy, are going to pick up every strand of hair here, and you two had better help him." With that, he slammed both their wands down on the table and stalked off, a black miasma seeming to surround him.

"You're dead." Malfoy sneered, already crawling on the floor to pick up his precious hair. "Shadowroot is to werewolves what catnip is to cats. You'll be ripped to pieces by that mangy canine," he chuckled darkly.

"Better that than bald." Harry countered, blowing Malfoy's hair off his chopping board. "Better wear a wig, egghead."

"Gimme those, you bloody oaf!"

Harry tossed the hairs at Malfoy, finished packing and left, making sure to step on several large chunks as he went.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Gryffindor Tower/

"Bloody hell, Harry, what have you been rolling around in?" Ron gaped as Harry trudged into the Gryffindor common room, resplendent in pink.

"Malfoy."

"You've been rolling around with Malfoy?" Harry glanced at Ron, amused to see his jaw drop.

"No, Ron," He sighed. "I finished Snape's bloody potion, then Malfoy came with Crabbe and Goyle, and we fought, and he exploded my potion _again_, and then Snape gave me another detention, only I have to go to the Forbidden Forest tomorrow to get shadowroot, and I don't think he's going to give me another chance to do the bloody potion, and I think I'm _this _close to failing." Harry held up his hand, with his thumb and finger pressed together.

"Hell." Ron looked him up and down. "I hope you gave him as good as you got!"

"I did," he grinned. "I hit him with Hermione's hair wrenching curse. He's going to have bald spots till he grows it back… or he can just use a hair growing potion…" he shrugged.

"Nah. He'll have to wait till it grows back. When Hermione wants something done, it gets done right," Ron laughed. "Hey, Colin, where's your camera?"

Harry left Ron plotting devious plots with Colin Creevey and went to wash the potion off himself. He was beginning to feel a little queasy, covered in pink gloop.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry couldn't sleep. The potion had been hard to wash off, slimy and sticky, and it felt like a layer was still left on him. He would've scratched his skin off if Hermione hadn't done a whole-body scouring charm for him when she finally came down from the girls' dorm with Ginny in tow.

He tossed and turned in the bed, feeling as he did sometimes, that the curtains were too confining. He got up and drew them back, then quietly padded over to his favourite spot near the window, tucked away behind a fold in the wall, and sat down to sit and think as he stared out the window.

Hagrid's hut was illuminated. He stared at the little stone cabin, wondering what Professor Lupin was doing so late at night. Hagrid had gone off on another expedition to the Giants with Madame Maxime, and Professor Lupin had been offered the post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher and Gameskeeper. Harry smiled. The class was really wonderful now. They were learning about humanoid magical creatures. Lupin had a gift with teaching. He was able to bring the most weird and wonderful creatures to life from his descriptions. And sometimes, rarely now that they were in the advanced class, he brought a real magical creature to class for them to see.

Harry watched the light and how it contrasted with the shadows, a beacon in the dark. It was so peaceful, sitting here when the castle was so quiet. It felt cosy, and private, and secret. He hugged his legs close to his chest as he gazed at the light until when he close his eyes, the afterglow was imprinted on the inside of his lids. He curled in tight and buried his face in his knees. A faint tingling started deep within him. It was a soft tickle that made him shudder. It ran up his spine and his neck, hunching his shoulders. At first he thought nothing of it. He'd felt it before. He felt it on that rocky island when Hagrid punched down the door of the shack, knowing it was a beginning. He'd felt it as he walked into Ollivander's shop and when he finally held his wand in his hand. And again the first time he saw Hogwarts, from across the gold-black ripples on the Lake, lit like a fairytale castle. It was like the shudders of excitement he felt anticipating quidditch matches.

The shivering warmed his body and Harry started to doze off; his eyes slid shut and his body slumped to the floor. Outside, it started to rain. The flashes of lightning lit the sky, as bright as the glow that flashed from the window of the 6th year Gryffindor boys' dorm.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc

I put together English words translated into Latin for the hair wrenching curse, here are the translations:

_pilo: to shave, cut the hair. _

_eruo: to dig up, pull out; raze, demolish_

A/N: Was the transformation too vague? I didn't know how detailed it should be. Please comment, and tell me what you think! Comments and criticism are very, very appreciated :P


	2. Chapter 2

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings:

1) This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

2) 1) Okay… hmm. I dunno how to say this, cos I wasn't expecting it in the first place, and I've never written it before… so I'll just come out and say it. There's gonna be femme slash too . Eep! Very mild though, probably.

3) Unbeta-ed. My beta is myself. So every so often, I'll add things, but I'll tell if I do.

Disclaimer: The gang doesn't belong to me. If they did, they'd sue.

A/N:

ATTENTION! I added a little bit to the last part of the previous chapter. Go read it first if you read the original version because this chapter begins where that one left of. Give or take a few hours :P (20/9/06)

And thanks so very much for reviewing, it really motivates!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 1: Enthralling Harry

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Gryffindor Tower, 6th year boys' dormitory/

Motes of dust danced in the early morning sunshine that streamed in through the long windows circling Gryffindor Tower. The faint light gradually grew in intensity, heralding the rising of the sun. By the time dawn had broken, it was bright and warm enough to rouse the person lying on the stone floor.

Harry Potter stirred and moaned, then crawled across the stone floor to find a cooler surface. Finding none, he finally woke enough to stumble into his bed and draw the thick curtains against the light, then promptly went back to sleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Haaarry!"

"Haaaaarry!"

Ugh. He didn't want to wake up. He felt exhausted. And nice and comfy. Harry turned away from the pestering voice and folded his pillow over his head. There. Nothing would wake him now.

Shing!

The curtains that surrounded the bed were thrown open and the midmorning sun was back with a vengeance. Harry groaned, and flung the pillow in Ron's general direction. Flump!

"Ha-!"

He kept his eyes shut and waited for Ron to continue. _Rry. Harry_. His brain completed the name in his mind, as he prepared himself to be woken up by Ron shaking him.

But when a whole minute passed and nothing happened, Harry began to fall asleep. Maybe Ron had left. It was Saturday after all. Ron would never wake up earlier than twelve on a Saturday. Ron would never… what was that? Eh? There seemed to be an ant walking along his arm. He jerked to remove the insect. There. It was gone. He settled down to sleep again.

Just as he was dozing off… sssh… ssshh… _sssshh_… There were cold patches on the side of his head! He turned his head roughly to cuddle into the sheets, and smashed his head into something hard and yielding.

"ARGH!" Ron fell back onto the floor with a thud. Harry leaned over the edge of the bed and stared at him as he cursed. "Bloody _hell_, Harry!" He rubbed his nose then sneezed. "Hat-choo!"

"…Ron… were you _smelling_ my hair?" Harry could think of no other explanation. Ron turned bright pink, which helped to camouflage his sore red nose.

"Hat-c_hoo_!" Ron sniffled. "Me? Smelling your _hair_?" He got up and sat down on his own bed. "Never! I was blowing away a mosquito near your head." He tossed Harry's pillow back at him.

Harry caught the pillow and opened his mouth to say something, when Ron interrupted hurriedly.

"Get changed, Harry, its Saturday. We were supposed to go to Hogsmeade today remember? You woke up so late; Hermione and Ginny have left already. Honestly. It's past eleven!"

Harry glanced at his clock and felt shocked. Eleven? He usually woke at eight thirty! Even on Saturdays. Oh well. He pulled his pajama top over his head and bent down to find a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans to wear in his trunk.

Ron gulped as he watched Harry change. There was something odd about Harry today. He'd charged into the dorms to wake his best friend up, only to stop short at his bed to stare dazedly down at him.

/Flashback/

In the clear morning light, Harry looked… appealing. The trim lines of his body were graceful underneath the thin material of his pajamas. His limbs draped naturally, curled as he was on his side. Ron's eyes were attracted to the line of his spine, following its gentle arc as it swept down Harry's back. His hips curved slightly out, too slight a curve for it to seem girlish, yet it drew attention to his tight bu… Ron flicked his eyes away, feeling a little nervous about where his thoughts were going.

He reached out a hand to start shaking Harry awake, but… Harry's skin was smooth. It was light gold and soft. He drew a fingertip down his best friend's arm, and then watched when he shivered at the feathery touch. Entrancing. Ron stood and gazed as Harry breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. Then, without thinking about it, he bent over him and nuzzled his hair, breathing in Harry's unique scent. It was spicy. Ron wasn't good at describing scents, but he was sure, Harry never smelt as great as this, ever. He took another sniff. He wouldn't mind if Harry never took a bath again. Sniff. This scent should be bottled.

He was just debating whether Harry would mind if he crawled into bed with him and buried his nose in his hair, when suddenly Harry turned and his skull made a sudden acquaintance with the appendage in mind.

/End Flashback/

Ron winced. What had gotten into him? Sniffing at Harry. His best mate. He must be going mad. He glanced over at Harry to see if he was ready and was captivated again by the sight of Harry's sculpted stomach as the boy wrestled with his shirt. It wasn't a six-pack, but it was defined. His hand reached out while his mind was still in a stupor, wondering when Harry had gotten so hot, and brushed lightly against the exposed skin.

Harry froze immediately. Then yanked his shirt down just in time to see Ron pull back with a guilty look on his face. "Ron. You touched me."

Ron said nothing, just stared in increasing horror at Harry. His best friends mouth was moving, Harry was saying something, but all he could think about was how shapely his mouth was. Harry's mouth. He'd NEVER bothered to notice what shape Harry's mouth was, ever before. And red. Harry's lips were a luscious shade of red.

"And you WERE smelling my hair just now."

Ron concentrated absurdly hard on how green and sparkly Harry's eyes were now. He felt the irresistible urge to keep them looking at him.

Harry stepped closer to Ron and waved his hand in front of his face. His friend looked like he'd been clubbed by a troll. Harry didn't know what to make of it.

"Did you know I'm going to be the first wizard to fly to the moon?"

Harry gaped.

"My dueling skills are the best in the world. You-Know-Who can't hold a candle compared to me."

Something was seriously wrong. Harry glanced towards the door. Ron needed help.

"I'm the best mediwitch there is!" Ron got up and approached Harry with a frantic look on his face.

He ducked under Ron's arm and made to sprint for the door, only to be held up short with Ron's hand on the back of his shirt.

"I own half the shares in Gringotts!" Ron was starting to look panicked, and opened his hand, allowing Harry to wriggled away. "No, all of them!"

"Ron!"

"I'm this close to inventing the first ever self-casting wand, Witch Weekly's Drop Dead Gorgeous Stud award has my name permanently etched on it, I was nominated Chief Mugwump in Ju-" Ron's mouth was suddenly sealed as Harry jammed his hand over it.

"RON!"

His voice seemed to shake Ron out of his trance. Harry stepped back, and watched as Ron's eyes grew to the size of platters.

"Ha-rry…"

"Come on, Ron. We have to get to Hermione. She'll know what's wrong with you." Harry took hold of his arm and started yanking him towards the door. "It must be a jinx."

Ron felt nauseous. It wasn't a jinx. It was a curse. And it was on Harry. He was sure of it. "Er… Harry, I think you'd better wear this." He held up Harry's invisibility cloak. Forestalling Harry's questions, he said, "Malfoy was looking to trash you earlier. I just want to get out of here as fast as possible."

Harry nodded and pulled it over, then led the way out of the dorms to Hogsmeade. "Don't worry Ron, Hermione'll know how to make it stop."

"Yeah… sure."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They met Hermione and Ginny at the Shrieking Shack. The two girls were sitting and talking on a big stone near the fence.

"Hermione!" Harry called, pulling off his cloak. "Something's wrong with Ron!"

Ron hung back and shuffled around in the snow. "Er… I think something's wrong with you, Harry."

Harry looked surprised at him. "With me? You were the one touching and sniffing at me earlier, Ron."

"Sniffing and… touching?" Ginny grinned as she looked at her blushing brother. "What happened?"

Harry turned to Hermione. "I woke up, and he was sniffing my hair, then he touched my stomach and then, he started babbling crazy things. It was like he was under a confundus charm. What kind of jinx do you think it is? I haven't read about anything like that. And I've read plenty."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Harry. What kind of crazy things was Ron saying?" Hermione looked from one boy to another. Ron certainly looked normal enough now.

"He said he was going to fly to the moon," Harry paused as Ginny giggled and Ron turned bright red. Ron hadn't once looked at him since they arrived. "And how he could duel better than Voldemort, and that he was the best mediwizard there was, and that Gringott's shares are his…" He trailed off, noticing the look on Hermione's face.

"Do you remember any of this, Ron?" she asked.

"Vaguely." Ron evaded answering. Hermione stared at him. "Okay, okay. I remember. I only did it all because Harry looked so pretty. I swear, I didn't just say that. But… yeah, _look_ at him!"

Everyone turned to stare at Harry. "You can't be serious. _Pretty?_" Harry sputtered.

"Harry's always been pretty, Ron," Ginny laughed. "You've only just noticed?"

"Excuse me, _pretty?_ Handsome, yes, pretty, no. And even that is a far bet."

"Harry, I believe I know what Ron's suffering from." Hermione said, flicking her bushy hair back over her shoulder. "I just can't imagine why you're the reason why…"

"What's he suffering from?" Harry asked.

"I mean, the signs are all there. It's exactly like it should be. But you don't look the part, and… why is it only happening now?" Hermione paced as she tried to figure it out, and Harry trailed after her. Ron slumped in relief and went over to sit by a puzzled Ginny. For once, he understood Hermione perfectly, and nobody else did.

"What signs? What part? Why not now?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. "Hermione, talk to me."

"We can find out!" She exclaimed excitedly and caught his hand, dragging him towards Hogsmeade. "Come on. And don't put on your cloak!"

"Miiione…" Harry moaned as they scurried after her. When Hermione had research to do, nothing stood in her way. "… tell me what's going on!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc

A/N: I had great fun writing this chapter! I hope you guys like it too! Do tell me in a REVIEW!

(Oh, and btw. Femmeslash didn't make it in this chapter. I decided to end it earlier than I planned so the chapters wouldn't get too long. Hopefully it doesn't make it stilted. Tell me if it does!)


	3. Chapter 3

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings:

1) This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

2) Okay… hmm. I dunno how to say this, cos I wasn't expecting it in the first place, and I've never written it before… so I'll just come out and say it. There's gonna be femme slash too . Eep!

3) Unbeta-ed. My beta is myself. So every so often, I'll add things, but I'll tell if I do.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: I have a Biology test tomorrow and I didn't study tonight, just to give this chapter to you. Sigh. I should stop procrastinating someday… Anyways, wish me luck!

And thanks loads for reviewing! I reread every part of the story you comment on, and it makes me really want to write more!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 2: Public Displays of Affection

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Three Broomsticks/

Draco Malfoy lounged in a booth near a window, basking in the warm glow of everyone else's attention. At times like this, it felt great to be drop dead gorgeous, filthy rich, and naturally charming. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror over the bar, observing his new blood red cap. Dashing, if he did say so himself. No one could suspect, that the eagle-feathered accessory was covering less than perfect hair. The morning's shopping had paid off; every so often, a witch or wizard would glance dreamily in his direction, and twice already, someone had bought a drink for him. It paid to be naturally irresistible.

Malfoy grimaced momentarily as he remembered shopping at Gladrags Wizardwear. He'd left Hogwarts at the crack of dawn with his uniform cap jammed on his head and headed straight to the shop. Then he'd had to spend hours looking for hair extensions with just the right colour. There wasn't any actually. After all, his hair was special. But Malfoy had had Gladrags himself charm the magical hair to match his own luxurious locks, so everything was perfect again. Malfoy leaned back and took a swig of the Butterbeer Zabini had bought for him when they'd met at the bar.

"Oh look, Potter and his gang are here," Blaise raised his glass of Gillywater as he pointed out Potter, Weasel, Weasley and Granger. The dark skinned wizard sat opposite Malfoy in the booth and had a clear view of the street leading up to the Three Broomsticks.

The bell above the door tinkled as the group entered. Malfoy twisted around and narrowed his eyes when he spotted Harry. All heads turned in unison with his, and the bar quieted as Harry ordered a drink.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Hermione had towed him all the way to the Three Broomsticks, and normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, except now she was nudging him in the stomach to do something, and he could just feel the dozens of eyes rake his back as he sat on a stool in front of Madam Rosmerta.

"Order something, Harry!" Hermione urged.

"Uh…" he glanced at Ron "Two butterbeers and…" he looked at Ginny who mouthed 'cherry soda', "… one cherry soda, and…" Hermione just flapped her hand at him, "mulled mead." Hermione needed something to calm her down, and he knew she could drink butterbeer by the gallon without feeling a thing.

Madam Rosmerta flashed a big smile at him. "Coming right up, dear."

As she bustled around behind the bar, Harry turned to look at Hermione. "Satisfied? Now will you tell me what you're thinking?"

"Harry… everyone's staring at you." Hermione whispered, watching the mirror over the bar.

Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed in a lower voice, "Of course. Precious Potter has just walked in. I'm used to it already." He got out his wallet to pay as Madam Rosmerta came back with their drinks in hand.

"It's on the house, dearie," she cooed and plumped down into a seat opposite him. "Sooo, what's hot and new this season at Hogwarts, hmmm?" she said in a sultry voice, batting her eyelids slowly and then winking at Harry.

"Err…" Ron gripped Harry's arm as he struggled to find an answer, looking him in the eye and mouthing, "_See?"_ He was saved from responding to either of them though, when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Harry!" Neville smiled. "You're looking fantastic!" He leaned nearer his ear and whispered "Why don't we go over to Madam Puddifoot's? I heard she changed the décor since she married. It's all sort of gothic now. Last time I saw, there were whips and handcuffs over the door."

"Now see here, young man!" Madam Rosmerta butted in. "Harry's fine where he is." She leaned over the bar, her ample bosom dangerously close to spilling out of her top. "The Three Broomsticks has excellent drinks and even better company." She pouted, "at least, James used to think so…" smiling at Harry, she reached out to pat his hand.

"Grrr…" Harry and Ron jumped as Neville growled. Never had soft-spoken Neville been so out of character. Ginny looked rather fascinated though, as she surveyed the scene, however Hermione was just seemed to be staring forward in her seat.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Malfoy watched in annoyance as his adoring public turned to the Golden Boy. It was just like him to interrupt by diverting everyone's attention. Disgruntled that even Blaise was staring openly, and wondering when everyone would get tired of admiring a huge walking scar, he flexed his magic and allowed a trickle of thrall to escape his control.

"Oh my, Malfoy. Is that a new cap? It looks stunning with your robes. You've excellent taste," Blaise drawled, reaching out to touch the feather… and caress Draco's baby smooth cheek.

"Hands off, Zabini," Malfoy said, breezily. He looked around to watch the effect of his thrall, only to find that most everyone else was still engrossed in watching Potter. Annoyed, he let the trickle surge to a stream, feeling smug as heads began to turn. He leaned back to enjoy the attention, graciously fending off Blaise's compliments, and avoiding his eager touches.

"-_really_ not interested in going to Madam Puddifoot's, Neville. And what on earth is BDSM?"

Malfoy gaped as heads spun again to Harry. Okay… even if they were interested in knowing about Neville's kinks and Harry's inexperience, nobody should be able to ignore him. What was going on? Determined to win in the unofficial competition, he was just about to let loose when he noticed Granger scrutinizing him through the mirror.

It appeared that she'd been watching as he played the crowd and now suspected something. He could see it in the way her eyes darted around, and watched with baited breath, as she pondered the situation.

Just as her eyes landed on him again, Blaise, tired of trying to catch his attention with subtle innuendoes, blurted out, "Draco, I'm going to be the youngest Minister of Magic in a century!" Uh oh.

Hermione's eyes widened in comprehension.

Then the silence was broken with, "Harry, I earn thousands of galleons exporting butterbeer to the elves."

Malfoy's face flooded with disbelief as he glanced at Harry, noting the unnaturally shiny black hair and subtle glow of his skin. Oh Gods. He shot a look at Hermione. Shock and bewilderment met dismay and dread, till Hermione tore her gaze away and pulled Harry from the bar and out the door in a whirl of confusion.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Shrieking Shack/

"_Now_, do you believe me?" Ron asked Harry. They were back at the fence surrounding the Shrieking Shack, having fled the Three Broomsticks.

Harry frowned. So something was wrong with him. What?

"Harry, everything was fine last night. Things started to go crazy this morning didn't they?" Hermione didn't pause in her musings as she arranged the facts the way she saw it. "And Ron was the first to react to you," she tapped Ron on his chest. "What was the catalyst? What made you want to touch Harry?"

Ron was speechless for a moment, his eyes wide with apprehension. Then he sneaked a glance at Harry and upon meeting his questioning eyes, quickly looked away. "Erm…."

"Ron?" Harry prodded.

"Well… you looked really good in the sunshine, like… very touchable… so I touched you." Ron gulped. "Then I somehow… wanted to… to see how you smelled like… so I, you know," he waved his hands agitatedly. "Then you smelt so _good_, like, like… tangy, and lemony… a little like… amber…" Ron grew more enthusiastic, and stepped towards Harry. "Like… ivy leaves and musk…" He nodded earnestly, "And fresh-like. Zesty!"

Ginny burst out laughing, then immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling giggles. "I'm so… haha… so, sor…sorry… but…" her eyes watered and she drew her sleeve across her face, "Ron, Harry must smell like some _weird_ perfumed aphrodisiac by your description!"

Ron paled and sat down heavily on the big rock. Hermione passed by and patted him on the head. "Nevermind Ron, you couldn't help it."

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Harry… I'm sorry."

Harry looked so clueless and upset, and Ron seemed so devastated that Ginny immediately felt guilty for laughing. "I'm sorry, guys." She sat next to Ron and slung her arm around his waist, hugging him. "This is awful strange, isn't it?" She looked at Hermione who had her signature resolute I'll-get-to-the-bottom-of-this look on her face. "Spill it Hermione."

"Okay. So then, Ron touches Harry, smells him, and starts spewing out nonsense to impress him. We go to the Three Broomsticks and suddenly, everyone's intent on getting Harry's attention." She looked at him. "More so than usual. First, Madam Rosmerta flirts with him." She made a face. "Then Neville invites him to a BDSM party." She looked thoughtful. "Hmmm… that's kinda odd for Neville."

"I'm not surprised," Ron said, having recovered enough from his embarrassment to remark on a fellow victims kink. "He likes to _dance_." He twisted his face as he pronounced 'dance', putting all the awkwardness he associated with the activity into the word.

"Hei, Neville dances well!" Ginny protested. She'd gone to the Yule ball with him in third year.

"Precisely." Ron rolled his eyes. Everyone looked at him with mouths open and incredulous expressions. "What? It's obvious. All that leading and moving, and dipping, and twirling. It's sadomasochism."

Hermione sighed. "Honestly Ron. I don't even want to know how you can make the connection." She turned to Harry. "While those two were falling over their feet to please you, I noticed that everyone kept staring at you, like they were bewitched."

"…"

"Malfoy was there too." She frowned. "He was… from what I saw, he seemed offended at the attention you were getting." She put up her hand to forestall any comments from Harry. "He also seemed surprised. I think he did something then, because several people close to him looked away from you and at him. Blaise Zabini practically molested him. Then it happened again, they looked back to you." She paused. "I heard Zabini say, that he was going to be the youngest Minister of Magic just before Madam Rosmerta bragged about reaping a fortune from alcoholic elves." She glanced significantly at Harry. "Do you know what this means?"

Harry felt as if he should. But had an awful feeling that he really didn't want to know. "What?"

"You and Malfoy attract the same attention, provoke the same remarks." She ticked off the facts. "Last night, you were fine. However, you had an encounter with Malfoy. This morning and ever since, you've been magnetically attractive." She looked meaningfully at Harry. "I remember you were to brew a transmogrifying potion last night. You also used my hair-wrenching curse on Malfoy. I know how that curse works. Hair flies everywhere. It would have fallen into the potion." She circled Harry. "Did you ever taste that potion, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to say no, when he recalled a bittersweet taste melting in his mouth. He stared in horror at Hermione. "Yes…"

She smiled triumphantly. "That settles it then. Harry, you've been transmogrified into a Veela."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: Oooh. Harry is DENSE. But… honestly, who would've imagined it? Hehe… only me, and you guys… :)

The next chapter is already planned, with Harry trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he's now a veela and we'll find out whether Malfoy has caught on, and if he has… what he's gonna do about it.

The chapters are short, but that helps me get them out faster. I think. I hope. Anyways, now alls you gotta do is, REVIEW and tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

And femmeslash made it in this chapter! Very, very mild as i said.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: You guys were great! You gave me 14 reviews for chapter 3 :P It took a little while for this chapter to come out, because I had science camp and a mini vacation, sorry. But anyway, it's slightly longer, so enjoy!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 3: 'The Naked Veela: Revealed!'

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Harry opened his mouth to say no, when he recalled a bittersweet taste melting in his mouth. He stared in horror at Hermione. "Yes…"_

_She smiled triumphantly. "That settles it then. Harry, you've been transmogrified into a Veela."_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Shrieking Shack/

"But that would mean…" Harry paused.

"That Draco Malfoy is a veela. And now _you_ have become one." Hermione studied his face. Harry still looked bewildered. "Because veela hair is extremely magical, it is used as wand cores and should be excruciatingly painful to remove, just like unicorn manes and dragon heartstrings. It would have been an extremely powerful element to add to the Transmogrifying potion you were brewing, and it seems, powerful enough to completely transform a normal human into a veela."

Harry understood what Hermione was saying. He seriously did. But it didn't seem to penetrate properly. He was a Veela? He didn't _feel_ like a veela. But then again, never having been a veela, he shouldn't know how veela felt like, should he. But now he WAS a veela. So…

"Harry." Hermione approached, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

He pondered the question. Yeah. He was alright. He'd just discovered he was no longer human, but other than that… yeah. "Sort of. It's… pretty harmless after all, isn't it?"

"Harmless?" Ron exclaimed. "I lost my mind!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I sort of recall that, Ron."

Ron looked disgusted when suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Hei!" He pointed at Ginny and Hermione. "Why aren't you girls slobbering all over Harry? You thought he was _pretty_, Ginny!"

Ginny smiled sweetly. "There's a good reason for that, Ron." She went over and slung an arm around Hermione's waist, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek. "Hermione and I've been going steady since last hols when she came to visit."

It was silent as the grave; you could hear the wind whooshing through the trees and the grass rustling while birds and crickets chirped. Meanwhile, Hermione blushed and looked down, but didn't seek to remove Ginny's arm around her waist. Ron seemed too stunned to react, so Harry decided to step forward.

"Er… that's wonderful. It… I'm…" He stumbled over the words. "…very surprised."

"Yeah, well. So were we." Hermione said hurriedly. She still didn't dare look at Ron yet.

"What do you think Ron?" Ginny asked, anxiously. Ron would never have guessed if they didn't tell him, and now was as good a time as any… but Ron was pretty stubborn and had set ideas on a lot of things… she was afraid he wouldn't approve.

Ron let out a strangled gasp, and then started to say something, only to choke over the words.

"Honestly Ron." Hermione said, flustered and embarrassed. "I hope you weren't still thinking that we could be together. We'd be arguing every day, and I… really just consider you as my very best friend, just like Harry," she finished in a gentle voice, shooting a smile at Harry. "And besides…" she grinned. "you like boys."

Ron finally stopped coughing, his face red and chest heaving. "WHAT? _Since when_?"

"Since you molested Harry this morning, Ron," said Ginny, amusedly. "I suspected before, but that confirmed it."

"You're wrong. I'm as straight as a ruler." Ron protested staunchly. "Harry's a veela, is all." He crossed his arms and planted his feet, as if daring anyone to try to prove to him otherwise.

_Rulers can be bent, Ron_, Hermione wanted to say. But she could see that it wasn't worth it to argue with Ron now. He'd see it for himself in the future. There were other things at stake now. Like Harry's safety. It hadn't occurred to any of the others yet, but Harry was in a real fix. He thought it was harmless now, but… if anyone was ever to find out that their world savior was a veela, it might lead to a lot of trouble… and publicity. She winced. That alone would leave a huge impact on Harry. Bad enough to be adored, misunderstood and shunned by every witch and wizard, it would be worse if they ever fixated on him as a wet dream brought to life. Powerful, gorgeous, famous, rich, inherently good, and capable of fulfilling every lustful desire on earth… he'd be eaten alive.

Shuddering, she quickly gathered her thoughts and decided on the best course of action to save Harry. "Guys, we need to go to the library!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts Library/

The four of them hurried back to Hogwarts with Harry safely hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione headed straight to the library, insisting on Harry following her, and locked the two of them in a study room off the library, while Ron and Ginny went in search of lunch.

"What exactly are we looking for, Hermione?" Harry asked as he thumbed through a book on veela. Hermione had requested all the books in the library on magical humanoid creatures, specifically veela, and Madam Pince had given them almost a hundred and fifty books, apparently the subject was a popular one. But so far, Hermione was just flipping the pages at high speed, reading titles and mumbling under her breath.

"I'm looking for a way to conceal the fact that you're a veela, Harry," she said chucking her book onto the slowly growing pile of 'really-interesting-but-not-what-we-need-now' books. There were a few in a separate pile, but Hermione was keeping those out of Harry's sight. That pile had titles that ranged from, 'Veela's And Their Mating Habits,' to 'Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Sex With A Veela (But Couldn't Ask While Gibbering)'. She didn't want to make him panic yet.

"Oh." Harry blinked. "That _would_ be useful."

"Indeed it would, imagine if Snape got too near you, Harry," Hermione pointed out. Harry shuddered and immediately reached for a pile of books and started skimming through.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts Library/

It was late in the evening, and everyone was tired of going through books. Ron and Ginny had again visited the kitchen for food as there was no way Harry was going to be able to go to the Great Hall in his condition. Hermione scanned books as she ate the chicken and ham sandwiches and drank pumpkin juice.

"What will I do if we don't find a way?" Harry asked. He was emotionally exhausted. Reading the books had drummed in a few facts on veela into his head, and he wasn't so sure now that being a veela was harmless. It hadn't looked as if Fleur had anything more to deal with other than being adored by everyone, but from what he'd read, veela actually had a lot more on their plate than what most people gave them credit for.

"We WILL find a way, Harry." Hermione insisted. "I'm close. This book has a lot of information." She carefully book marked several chapters; this book didn't twist and turn around facts or mince words. It seemed to give the truth and details about what life as and with a veela really entailed. She glanced at the cover. 'The Naked Veela: Revealed!' by Eros Pervus. She rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes, she thought that authors used pseudonyms just to sound more professional or… in this case, more… authoritative about their chosen field.

Harry resumed biting his lips as he watched. Ron had picked up what looked like a thin, flimsy book and was gingerly flipping through it. From what Harry could see of the title, it was a book written in a foreign language, which surprised Harry. He didn't know Ron could speak another language. He was just about to ask when Ron squeaked and tossed the book in a pile that was building up behind several stacks of books Hermione had placed on the table. "What was that, Ron?"

"Oh, some stupid book. It's foreign."

"Yeah, I saw the title: 'Something Sutra.'" Harry reached out to snag the book and almost toppled a mound of books. God, how many stacks had Hermione gone through?

"The Kama Sutra," Ginny supplied absently as she twirled hair around her finger. She was reading 'Pickup Lines For Dummies'. "It's a sex manual, said to have been originally written by a veela and his mate."

Harry paused… and decided not to look at the book. He looked at his watch instead. "Erm, I'm going to have to go brew the potion again in half an hour. And there's the shadowroot Snape wanted…"

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said briskly, suddenly excited. "I've found it!"

"What?" Harry asked, leaning over her shoulder. She was looking at 'The Naked Veela: Revealed!', 'Chapter 12: How To Resist A Veela's Thrall.'

"It says here, that 'a veela's enthrallment hath no hold on he who doth cease to breathe. To draw in the essence of a veela is to yield to his charm and thus surrender all wit and desire.'" She smiled. "It proves my theory!"

"What, that only dead men can resist a veela?" Ron asked grumpily.

Hermione sighed. "No, Ron. Obviously, veela must give out some scent, something like ultra concentrated pheromones, which is described here as 'essence'."

"That's great. So all we have to do is not breathe when we're around Harry."

Hermione shrugged. "It also continues to say, 'However, should the person who seeks to thwart the thrall deny their senses overlong, they shall imperil their minds when finally the veela's essence they receive.'"

"What on earth does that mean?" Ginny asked coming up to lean over Hermione's other shoulder. "'imperil their minds when finally the veela's essence they receive.'" She looked nervously at Harry. "Does that mean…" she scrunched up her face as she thought, "that if we were to somehow stop ourselves from smelling Harry, that when or if we finally breathe in his hormones, we'll go crazy?"

"Yeah… like so crazy that you lose your minds as you jump him," Hermione said. "This complicates things somewhat."

"So… we have to find a way to stop people from smelling me, but not stop them for too long or else it will be worse for them and me…" Harry said worriedly.

"How on _earth_ are we supposed to do that?" Ron exclaimed. "Does that book say, Mione?" he asked anxiously.

"No."

"Great." Ron flopped on the table, causing a stack of books to spill over. "Now I'm wondering how on earth we all stayed sane when Fleur came over with Bill."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ron, natural veela must have some way to control the thrall, obviously. But Harry, not being a natural veela…" she trailed off. "What do you guys remember about being around Fleur? Or Malfoy?" She asked expectantly.

"I remember being annoyed to death," Ron remarked, "in both cases." He flushed slightly, avoiding Hermione's gaze when she raised her eyebrows.

"I remember trashing him to an inch of his life," Harry grinned, and Ron smirked as well.

Ginny's mouth opened in an 'O'. "I get where you're going, Hermione!" She smirked. "Their hygiene is impeccable!"

"What does Malfoy being a fussy coxcomb got to do with it?" Ron asked, making a face.

"It's like this, Ron," Hermione explained enthusiastically. "Malfoy's always 'freshening up' in the boys' lavatories, and Fleur is always surrounded by a cloud of perfume." She gestured eagerly with her wand, performing a summoning charm in a quiet whisper. "That means, that maybe, Harry will be able to mask his attraction by wearing," the object she summoned zipped to her open palm. "deodorant!" She held up a green bottle decorated with white and yellow bell-shaped flowers.

"Huh?" Ron skeptically took the tiny aerosol can. "'Magic Deodorant, Honeysuckle'. 'Deodorant, all natural agent that helps neutralize unpleasant body odors, inhibits bacterial formation and perspiration. Spray to cover underarm area,'" he read. There was a French translation on the canister as well. He tossed the can to Harry who took a look, shrugged, and then started spraying it all over his body.

"Doesn't it seem too easy, Mione?" Ginny wondered quietly, watching as Ron helped to point out spots Harry hadn't sprayed yet. Harry sprayed, then Ron would sniff and then the process repeated itself.

"It's all we've got to go on with now," Hermione said softly back. "I agree with you though. The book said _essence_… that's more than just pheromones." She frowned. "But until we come up with something, don't mention this to them," she indicated Ron and Harry. "I want Harry to act normally… well as normal as he can now," she sighed. "And don't say a word about what's happened to anyone, Gin," she warned. "I mean it. This is serious."

"Of course!" Ginny answered, looking reproachfully at her girlfriend. "I'd never say anything, you don't even have to ask."

Hermione smiled, and took her hand, squeezing gently, " I know, Ginny." Then they both walked over to Harry and Ron, helped to give Harry a thorough check to make sure nothing faintly veela-ish betrayed him, and finally wished him luck with Professor Snape.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Potions Classroom/

Upon entering the potions classroom in the dungeons, Harry was greeted by Professor Snape with a curt, "Last chance Potter, mess this up and you fail." Then his potions professor had stalked over to his desk at the front of the table and started checking and marking the other students' Transmogrifying Potions. It was an interesting process to watch.

First, Snape would observe the color, and if it wasn't a deep transparent crimson, he would viciously scrawl what looked like an 'O' on a marking sheet. Next, the potions master uncorked the bottle and placed a shard of wood, or a feather into the vial, then swiftly poured out the contents onto his desk. More often then not, this left him with a puddle of red goo that Snape had to vanish away, after which he would then proceed to scrawl a hole in the student's marks sheet, obviously penning flowery, acerbic comments on the brew and its brewer.

On the rare occasion that the potion actually did work, it would immediately react with the Transmogrifying factor, and a small blooming tree or a petite blue bird would materialize. On these occasions, Snape would transfer the bonsai into a pot and place the chirping bird into a cage, to be given to the successful student during the next lesson.

Sometimes, the potions seemed to work halfway, and a mangled tree or handicapped bird appeared. Whenever this happened, Snape would perform a neutralizing charm immediately and the malformed entity reverted back to sludge.

Harry watched all this with veiled interest, sneaking peeks when he thought Snape wasn't looking. It awed him every time a potion bloomed into being; he couldn't help but hope that his would turn out as well. But what made him so engrossed in watching Snape was the charm that his professor used to nullify the potion's effects, which he recognized as the same one he had used during the lesson. He carefully memorized the wand movement and incantation, ignoring the way Snape's suspicious black eyes darted to look at him, as Snape got more and more irate and distracted. Finally, the potions master lifted his head and sniffed pointedly in Harry's direction, sweeping his eyes up and down Harry's thin frame.

That was when Harry remembered himself, and started to worry that the deodorant wasn't working. Feigning, he dropped a bit of toadskin and stooped to retrieve it, hastily sniffing his robes while under the table. Maybe the sweetness of the honeysuckle was irritating Snape. It was definitely irritating him. He'd sneezed so many times his nose felt sore. But Ron had only given him the thumbs up when they'd emptied half the canister, leaving Harry feeling like he was a large walking talking honeysuckle bush. He could only hope that he didn't bump into any cats; Hermione had mentioned that catnip was made of honeysuckle wood and warned him to bathe before entering Gryffindor Tower, unless he wanted Crookshanks permanently attached to him.

The green-eyed veela sighed heavily as he pondered his situation, then quickly busied himself by stirring his cauldron when Snape lifted his head to glare at him again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Severus Snape was in a snit. Not only had Dumbledore insisted he give Harry another chance to brew the potion, but the boy was actually managing to do it well this time. He watched as his rascal of a student chopped, minced, pounded and mixed almost mechanically, while his eyes wandered warily to Snape. The potions master was just itching for an opportunity to reprimand him.

It wasn't so much the fact that Potter was succeeding in brewing his potion, Snape mused. It irritated him more that he wasn't concentrating on it. Potter usually tried to concentrate during Potions, much to Snape's amusement, and frequently spent an inordinate amount of time copying down his instructions and getting the materials prepared. Evidence of his lack of skill, Snape always thought. He sent a shooting glare at the boy and smirked in his mind when Potter dropped a knife.

The few times when Potter hadn't paid attention had been when he was feeling too distracted, no doubt by some future act of mischief or troublemaking that he had in mind. Snape was always there for him though, to take away house points and bring him back to earth.

But this time, there was more than mischief on the boys' mind. Snape was always aware of his students' states of mind, and Potter's was an especially important one to tune in to; though that didn't indicate anything at all of it's value, he scoffed to himself. It was just that trouble seemed to follow the boy like a loyal puppy, and more often than not, that spelled disaster in the near future.

No, something more was bothering Potter this time. Snape had had the first hint when his troublemaking student had walked into the room. The boy had smelled as if he'd been rolling around in McGonagall's secret honeysuckle patch! Sheer indulgence, that, Snape sneered. Honestly, Dumbledore gave too much slack to the other staff members. But back to Potter.

He had dismissed the scent as random monkey business and just made sure to stay upwind from the boy. But as he observed him, he became more and more convinced that something was up. He listed the tell tale facts in his head.

First, the sickly sweet, cloying scent - Snape sniffed disgustedly at Potter. Next, the surreptitious twitching at his clothes and hair with nervous fingers. A thought suddenly occurred to Snape. Could it be, that the irrepressible boy had fallen in love again? Or rather, was in the midst of a clumsy romance? He scrutinized the boy. Same old hideous clothes, black wire-rimmed round glasses, messy ha….

Snape narrowed his eyes. Potter's hair had an unnatural gleam to it. It also seemed to waft attractively in the nonexistent wind that permeated the cold dungeons. He bent forward and stared until the boy could no longer deny his gaze and looked up to meet his eyes. Shifting shades of emerald and jade caught his attention and seemed to draw him into deep moist depths of desire. Impulsively, Snape stood and strode towards the owner of those alluring eyes.

Potter trembled slightly, Snape noted, as he loomed over his shoulder. From his considerable height above the dark haired boy, Snape could see all the way down his loose robes and it was now plain as daylight that Potter was wearing makeup on his face, neck and upper chest. Snape could detect the amateur attempt at concealment, and from his viewpoint, could see tiny patches in the hollows of his collarbone where the hasty swipes of a make-up brush had missed. The skin there was subtly glowing and emanated slight phosphorescence.

Feeling his heart drop down to his stomach to perform a jig, Snape barked, "Potter!" causing the poor wizard to jump and rattle the table. "Your potion is done. Select one of the vials on my table and bottle it."

As the green-eyed veela hurried to obey, Snape reached out a nimble, long-fingered hand and snagged a wafting strand of hair as Potter rushed away, allowing the boy's eagerness to put some distance between them to cause the hair to be pulled out by the roots.

His unfortunate student uttered a muffled cry of pain and clapped his hand to his head, rubbing at the sore spot. Potter turned around and shot a watery glare accusingly at Snape, who balefully stared back, hair in hand carefully concealed by his side in his black robes. "What are you waiting for, Potter? Scram!"

With a scowl on his face, Potter stomped off to his table, snatched a delicate black vial and stomped back, then proceeded to fill it with the crimson potion. Snape, no longer caring to watch, instructed him to place it on his desk together with the rest, and promptly left the classroom, leaving his student to sulk in his absence. Severus Snape had a mystery to solve, likely an impending disaster to investigate, and he would waste no time in doing so.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: The next chapter follows Harry in the Forbidden Forest, while Snape investigates his hair and comes to the inevitable conclusion!

Fun fact! Harry is wearing honeysuckle deodorant :P French honeysuckle symbolizes 'rustic beauty'. Check it out at http / www. vegasweddings4u. com/ Flower Meanings. html

And please remember, the more you review, the more motivated I am, and the faster I write! So please REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: Kay, so people have been wondering where the Voldie/Harry action is… my answer is, it's coming. You'll prob see some Voldemort in the next chapter. A little. But I can't have them jump into bed and start snuggling like bunnies no matter how much you and I would like that. Voldemort is still a murderer and Harry still hates him. It's going to take some time (and some veela influence, nyak, nyak!) but it'll come. For now, Voldemort has no idea yet that Harry is a veela. So have some patience, kay? It's coming :P Don't rush it.

Thanks for reviewing! I've been attacked by some writer's block and haven't had the mood to write, but the number of reviews really forced me to get off my butt and post this. (I only hope it's come out ok.) But enough said! On with the story, and enjoy!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 4: Lessons On Lust

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Potions Classroom/

The minute Snape left the classroom, Harry sank to a chair and started rubbing his head. God, that hurt. It hurt so much that a few tears had run down his cheeks, and Harry was painfully reminded of what he'd done to Malfoy. He'd ripped out chunks of the veela's hair by the roots. He now felt a grudging sense of sympathy and respect for the blonde veela; he had had the impression that Malfoy had a low endurance for pain after the fiasco during third year with Buckbeak, but having seen him withstand Harry's assault, he now had to admit, that maybe it was him who had the lower threshold.

Feeling depressed and eager to get out of Snape's territory, Harry quickly packed up his potions kit, carefully placed his precious potion vial on the teacher's table and left the cold and dreary dungeons. He banished his equipment to the dormitories and hurried to the Great Hall and the huge enchanted double doors that led to the grounds.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts Grounds/

Draco waited patiently behind the rose bushes that led to the green houses and further on to the Forbidden Forest, confident that Potter would appear soon. He was lying in wait to stalk prey but for once, his two subordinates were not with him, as this was espionage, not a brawl in a pub. He scoffed as he thought of his two friends, who though loyal and privy to his condition, were too clumsy to accompany him on the dangerous mission tonight. However he also felt a little exposed without the two pillars of muscle flanking him, and for a moment, regretted that he could not ask Blaise to escort him in their place. But it was impossible. What he might see tonight had to remain a secret or else his own identity would be at stake. One could not command a houseful of conniving Slytherins if they viewed you as a weak, potential bedmate and not the son of the most powerful Death Eater with power and ability in his own right.

Draco shuddered as he thought of what might happen if the other students knew he was a veela. Thank goodness that hadn't happened yet, thanks to his skill in building the engaging and sexy persona he wore around the clock. Nobody suspected that he was more than just charming as he carefully controlled his powers and proudly relied only on social ability to lure his devotees. He did sometimes indulge himself though… and had carelessly done so at the bar with Blaise. But Draco had skillfully explained everything to the love struck puppy who himself wasn't very clear on what had happened.

The only thing that risked his position and hold on the Slytherins now was Potter. Draco had suspicions that Potter had somehow found a way to transform himself into a veela and was determined that the git would not expose him while he blundered through his mistake. Nobody would find out that Draco had been the catalyst in his transformation, not if he had his way. And he would have his way tonight, even if it meant that he had to butcher Potter to get it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry crept soundlessly out of the castle and headed to the greenhouses, glancing around to make sure that nobody was near. He still had at least three hours till midnight when he would have to find the shadowroot and pick its leaves. Harry was determined to use what time he had till then to try out the little charm Snape had unwittingly taught him.

He found a greenhouse with blackened glass, thankful that whatever plant Madam Sprout was growing in there had a fancy for darkness. The blackness made the spell resistant glass work just like a mirror. Looking around once more, he brought out his wand and chose a darkened pane, then he cleared his mind and closed his eyes to recall the exact method of performing the spell. So engrossed was he that he didn't notice the slight whisper of feet on grass behind him. Once he had pictured Snape performing the charm and was sure that he had all the details down, he opened his eyes and nervously aimed his wand at the glass. With a twitch and twirl, he sent the spell careening for his reflection.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Potter appeared, Draco suddenly got cold feet and couldn't move for fear of alerting the other wizard to his presence. He kept quiet as the boy passed him by and headed down the path, just as he had expected as it led to the Forbidden Forest. Then Draco started to fidget. He had to talk to Potter. But he didn't want to enter the Forest; there were dark creatures in there. Then again, it would be better if he confronted Potter where nobody could see them from the castle. But Potter paused before he even reached the tree line and after waiting for a while, staring at Potter while he stared at a greenhouse, Draco decided to move nearer.

The blonde haired veela quietly sneaked across the grass until he found cover in the shadow of a nearby low hanging tree, and watched, confused as Potter started muttering to himself. He was just about ready to forget subterfuge and approach when Potter twirled his wand, pointed it at the greenhouse and murmured a spell. A bright yellow radiance shot out of the tip of the wand and blasted towards the glass. Draco gaped. Was he mad? Was Potter trying to hex the greenhouse?

He had no time to ponder further as the spell struck the glass with a loud 'ping' and then rebound, shooting towards Potter. Draco almost cried out in surprise when it hit the boy, but managed to escape with a gasp instead. The spell suffused Potter with a nice warm glow, then faded with no apparent effect while he stood stock still for a moment, staring dazedly at his reflection.

Dumbfounded and curious, Draco decided to watch what his rival would do next. He didn't have long to wait. Potter suddenly leapt to the glass and started scrutinizing his reflection on the pane. Draco found it hard to contain incredulous laughter as Potter then started to strip of his shirt to check out his own body. He realized now what was going on. Potter had performed a neutralizing spell on himself, hoping that it would nullify the effects of his botched Transmogrifying potion.

Draco recalled his godfather teaching the spell to him when he was a child, and knew that the spell should have worked, but for the fact that Potter's blood had also mixed with the potion when he'd bashed his head against the cauldron. The blonde veela felt smug about his knowledge and pitied Potter for his ignorance in Potions. It was the number one rule not to allow any blood, hair, skin or matter belonging to ones self to fall into a potion while brewing it, as this would contaminate the potion and cause unpredictable effects. Potter's potion had been contaminated _twice_ and the git still hadn't the brains to refrain from ingesting it. Of course, it probably didn't help that the toadskin in the potion made it able to permeate fluid and matter, and Draco had drenched Potter with the potion. Ah well. It definitely paid to have a potions master give you tuition as a child, Draco thought happily, while he thanked Snape in his head.

Draco was so busy contemplating Potter's foolishness that he didn't react fast enough to avoid what happened next. In fact, he didn't see what happened next. All he recalled when he was next aware was that one second he was standing and ridiculing Potter silently and the next he was seeing stars and falling into blackness.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The spell hadn't worked. Harry was almost positive about that. He had looked at his chest, the only area above his waist other than his back that hadn't been painted by Hermione's foundation cream, and found that it still glowed faintly in the dark night.

He felt so disappointed. He hadn't dared to hope, but somehow hope had blossomed and only grew each time Snape successfully neutralized the spoiled potions. But it didn't work on him. Why? What was wrong? He was positive the spell was correct. Why wouldn't it work on him? Harry felt so frustrated and afraid that he would never return to normal that he became hysterical for a moment. He scratched at the lovely skin on his arms and tugged at his hair, then wincing from the pain, stared a moment at his crazed reflection. Even in his anger and fear, the boy that looked back at him was painfully lovely and breathtaking. Even he could see that. Feeling furious at himself, he leveled his wand at the beautiful boy and attacked. "Reducto!"

The electric blue spell zoomed towards the enforced glass only to ricochet back at Harry. Tempted as he was to let it hit him just to blast some reality into his life, he stepped aside at the last moment and the spell whizzed by. A crack resounded from behind him, and Harry looked back just in time to see a tree branch fall from a nearby tree and hit the ground with a muffled flump.

What was he doing, Harry thought, sighing miserably. He was blasting school property while having a fit. That wasn't the way to solve things. It would only get him into trouble. Harry hung his head, and started shuffling towards the Forbidden Forest. Best to just get things over with. He would get the shadowroot and return to haunt the library with Hermione and somehow find a way to get out of this mess.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Draco came to awareness with bitter leaves in his mouth. Disgusted and puzzled, he spat them out and struggled from under the branch that pinned him to the ground. He was fine, thankfully, but could not for the life of him figure out how the tree had managed to drop its branch right on his head without him having any warning. The whole scenario stank of Potter and his schemes.

Potter! Draco glanced around, hoping to spot the black-haired wizard lurking around, but there was no sign of him. Sighing, he decided that Potter had left after knocking him out. Which was just peachy. Now he had to hunt the brat down, exact his revenge, and carry out his plans to silence Potter.

Brushing down his clothes, Draco scanned the surroundings till he found Potter's tracks heading towards the Forest. Sighing heavily once more, he took out his wand and started to follow the faint footprints, keeping a wary eye out for monsters.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/The Forbidden Forest/

The Forest was as Harry remembered it. Huge trees stood tall with sprawling roots that sheltered darkened hollows from which red, yellow and white shining eyes sometimes peeked. The forest floor was hard and pebbly, and the path quickly faded away as grass and plants cropped up the deeper he went. Luckily, Harry knew how to navigate, or else he would have panicked at the thought of getting lost in the darkness. Despite that however, he still felt a twinge of unease.

Every so often, gusts of wind would blow around the tree trunks and carry sounds from far off places. Harry fancied that he heard calls, and sometimes laughter. He knew he heard whispering. The Forest was far from unoccupied and more than one sentient creature watched him as he wandered – Harry made sure not to turn his back on any direction for too long. But what made him so uneasy was the unshakable feeling that someone was following him.

He decided that someone _was_ following him when he heard a faint snort and the thump of a heavy foot. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end, and he got ready to whirl and shoot of a curse, waiting only for a signal.

None came. In fact, there were suddenly no more noises. Slowly, he turned around, keeping his wand up and level. There was nothing behind him but foliage and trees. There weren't even any glimmering eyes. Feeling curious, he decided to backtrack, and melting into shadows, began to circle around the path he'd taken, hoping to come around whatever was following him and surprise them from behind.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Draco had the distinct feeling that something was gazing at him. He knew the feeling as he felt it almost every other second at Hogwarts, being the popular Slytherin that he was. The feeling this time was more creepy and worrying though, and he shivered as he stared around the clearing he was in. It was a nice enough clearing, approximately the size of a large classroom and edged all over with trees except for the spot he was standing at beside a shimmering mere. He'd lost Potter's tracks over a half hour ago and was searching blind in the dark. If the situation wasn't so serious, he would have quit and returned back to head to his warm silky bed. He already had a headache from that blasted tree, and felt quite ready to slip back into lala land. But the fear of what would happen if his secret was exposed overrode his doubts and he continued to search for Potter's tracks.

Suddenly from the corner of his eye, a flash of gold gleamed abruptly in the shadows, then blinked out. The blonde veela frowned and nervously fingered his wand as he turned and glared at the spot. Something was checking him out, had been checking him out for quite some time, but didn't have the guts to approach. Draco didn't like being looked at like this when he wasn't aware who was doing the looking; it made him feel vulnerable. And if there was one thing Malfoy's never were, it was vulnerable.

Just as he was getting more and more nervous and was about to start hexing every shadow in sight, one suddenly gave way, and Harry Potter stepped out into the moonlight. Draco smiled in relief and greeted him easily. "Potter."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Harry and Draco stood face to face in the little clearing with their wands raised in defense, both almost mirror images of each other. The two of them were slight and slim and their colouring seemed washed out beneath the silver light that made everything bland yet stark.

"Malfoy… what are you doing here," Harry asked tiredly. So this was what it had been, he thought. Stupid bloody Malfoy.

"Following you, Potter." Draco replied flatly. "You have a terrible habit of walking in circles."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm looking for shadowroot thanks to you, Malfoy. Excuse my pathetic attempt at searching. I didn't know I had to cater to my stalker."

"You're excused." Draco retorted. "I was following you for a reason, you know," he continued hurriedly, before Harry could throw an insult at him. "I have an offer for you," he said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I can't imagine what you could have to offer me Malfoy," he said dryly. "I'm pretty sure you've given me enough shit lately."

Draco's eyes gleamed gray in the moonlight. "Manners, Potter. I haven't yet said what I have to offer." He ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm sure what I gave you, or rather, what you foolishly took from me, is far more precious than _shit,_" his mouth twisted distastefully, and he arched an eyebrow.

Harry looked puzzled at first, then his eyes widened. "So you know."

"Yes." Draco drawled. "It's pretty hard not to notice, the way you fling it about."

Harry glared at Draco "As if you don't. I can't help it, you know. At least I don't leave a trail of broken hearts behind me." The pureblooded Slytherin was well known for the string of admirers he had in every house. Harry couldn't understand how the arrogant spoiled brat had managed to attract them with the horrible personality he had.

Draco smirked. "And that, you know, requires skill." He looked Harry up and down. "Subtlety. Everything you don't have." He smiled as Harry rolled his eyes. "Hasn't it yet occurred to you that all those broken hearts were just that - broken hearts?" he enquired. "I'm better off leaving a trail of weeping crushes than you are, leaving barfuls of slavering idiots." He looked significantly at Harry.

Harry kept silent, wondering where the conversation was going.

"If you accept my offer, you won't have to worry about lustful barmaids and horny roommates." Draco said plainly, looking Harry in the eye, waiting for him to understand.

Harry hesitated. "Are you… are you offering to… to…"

"Yes, Potter. I will teach you how to control your thrall. For a price," Draco added. "A big, fat, hefty price." Better to demand more than less in advance, he thought.

"What?" This was a very good chance, Harry considered. If Malfoy was for real, he wouldn't have to hide anymore. But then again, the little ferret wanted something, and Harry was sure he wouldn't like it.

"Several conditions," Draco stated slowly, with a sly look on his face.

"Spit it out, Malfoy." Harry snapped, irritated that he actually had to bargain for something that was the brat's fault in the first place.

"Patience, Potter." Draco said, and sat down on a large tree root by the banks of the mere. "The first condition is that you swear a Wizard's Oath never to reveal that I'm a veela."

"Easy enough."

"The next is that during my lessons, you will do everything I say, and you will not attempt to harm me in any way whatsoever." Draco said, watching Harry closely.

Harry became immediately suspicious. "How do I know you won't trick me or aren't just using the opportunity to-"

"Because the lessons I'll teach you aren't lessons that we learn in class," Draco replied smoothly. "You won't like some of them, but they will all be necessary, and I refuse to allow you to take it out on me." He arrogantly added, "You can take it or leave it, Potter, this is not negotiable."

"Fine," Harry ground out. "Next?"

"Everything I say remains secret. The fact that I'm teaching you must also be kept secret." Draco paused to consider. "Consider everything connected to this mess totally confidential. Including meeting me tonight."

"Alright," Harry agreed readily. "Anything else?"

Draco smiled graciously. "I'll be sure to tell you as I think of the rest."

"I won't necessarily agree unless it's important," Harry warned Malfoy, feeling sure the little sneak would take advantage. He always did.

"Naturally," Draco replied serenely. "Now, the Oath, if you accept my offer."

Harry sighed. There was really no other way that he could see. He could keep spraying deodorant, or he could allow himself to be taught by his archrival. It was really not much of a choice. "I, Harry James Potter, swear a Wizard's Oath to never reveal Draco…"

"Lucius."

"-Draco Lucius Malfoy's nature as a veela till this Oath I am released. If I should break this oath, I will forfeit all magic that I possess and willingly accept my retribution."

A soft glow emanated around Potter's whole body, then slowly sank beneath his skin as the last words died on his lips. The invoked magic had taken, and Draco finally felt safe. Sighing softly, he stood. "Alright then. We'd better start on the first lesson now. Can't have you gathering a harem tomorrow at breakfast," he said, grinning evilly, as Potter eyed him warily.

"First things, first. Give me your wand, Potter." Draco held out his hand.

"You have got to be kidding, Malfoy." Harry replied, and held his wand tighter in case Malfoy decided to accio it.

"Look. We have no time for this." Draco said, annoyed. "How am I supposed to teach you if you suspect everything I tell you to do?" He gestured again at Harry's wand. "You can't hold that if you want to learn. The magic will interfere."

Harry snorted incredulously. "Yeah right, Malfoy. As if I'm going to fall for that."

If Draco didn't have such excellent control on himself, he would have strangled Potter and just gotten it over with. They would never have found the body in the mere. But his father would be most irritated to learn that he'd murdered a fellow student. "Look. I don't expect immediate trust from you, Potter. How about mutual distrust?" with that, he placed his own wand safely in a crook on the tree root, then stepped away, leaving a clear path for Potter.

Harry dillydallied a little, but eventually placed his own wand beside Draco's. "Alright. But you aren't to touch my wand, _ever_," he said vehemently.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Potter." Malfoy said as he leered suggestively at Harry's crotch. Once Potter noticed and was suitably traumatized, he continued. "Now. The reason why we can't have wands at the beginning is that the aura around magical objects like wands, can distract an observer from sensing a veela's thrall." He gestured to his own body. "For example, I usually have my thrall level at next to zero, so it's masked by everything magical I wear, but even so, it's always there. Can you see it?"

Harry stared at Draco. "Err…" The blonde veela stood in a pool of moonlight, and other than its radiance, there didn't seem to be anything extra.

Draco huffed impatiently, and increased the thrall. "Concentrate, Potter."

Harry's eyes went slightly crossed as he concentrated. "What am I supposed to look at? What does it look like?" he asked absently. Malfoy's body was beautiful – he wore a slightly translucent stylish white shirt and a pair of tight black jeans that molded beautifully to his legs. Harry couldn't help but notice that his arms were muscled with shapely biceps and that his neck was long and graceful. He didn't notice that he'd stepped closer till he reached out to touch Malfoy's collarbones and had his hand rudely smacked away.

"Don't look at my body, Potter, look _around_ it." Malfoy snapped, annoyed but amused.

Oh. Harry looked… and indeed, there seemed to be a pale bluish white aura around the whole of Malfoy's body and more where skin was exposed. "I see it."

"Good." He flexed his magic. "Notice that I can control it to become larger, or smaller. I can also wrap it around certain people or spread it far to encompass everyone around me," Malfoy explained as he demonstrated, randomly looping a nearby tree with his thrall. "It is controllable."

"Herm… I thought the veela thrall was just pheromones… the books I read said that. But it looks to be more magic than anything else," Harry asked.

"A good part is pheromones. But magic is what controls it," Draco stopped demonstrating and squashed his thrall. "Now you try."

Harry had no idea what to do, so Draco explained. "At the moment, your thrall doesn't look at all like mine. It's not uniform. It's haywire. Like your hair. You need to smoothen it, and you need to learn how to draw it into your body, so it's barely there. But first, sense it."

Harry closed his eyes, and tried to feel his thrall. Nothing. He opened his eyes and mouth to ask what it felt like but Malfoy's glare made him shut them again. Ok. Concentrate.

Several minutes passed in silence, but there was no pressure from Draco. Gradually, Harry grew calmer and as his breath evened out, he began to feel it. It was a faint tingling sensation, close to his skin. At first he thought it was cold and goosebumps, but gradually realized that it wasn't. It was less biting and more like gentle brushing, almost like small breaths of air running over him.

"If you can feel it now, try to expand it. Imagine the feeling intensifying - imagine the thrall growing. Picture it in your head." Draco said in a low voice, trying not to interrupt Harry.

Harry thought of it as a nice winter fluffy coat, and imagined it growing bigger, larger, encompassing him and hooding his head. It felt good, very good. The tiny stroking was more apparent, and warm pleasure seemed to suffuse his body. Harry felt buoyed and cradled by the feeling, and couldn't help wanting more. Goaded on by how nice it felt and Malfoy's encouragement, he let it swell and burst forth from within him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Draco watched anxiously as Potter tried to sense his thrall. He could see the wildly spiked glow around the other boy's body and it seemed to whip every now and then at random directions. He wondered what he would do if Potter couldn't sense and control it, but his worries ceased as suddenly, the blue-white aura calmed and smoothened, seemingly under Potter's control.

"If you can feel it now, try to expand it. Imagine the feeling intensifying - imagine the thrall growing. Picture it in your head." Draco murmured sofly. It was always easier to amplify the thrall rather than subdue it, so they would try that first.

Potter nodded slightly in response, but nothing much happened at first. Draco was very careful not to remove his eyes from his aura, but a sudden rustling in the trees behind him caught his attention and his head whipped around. Seeing nothing but feeling more tense than ever, he turned back to Potter, only just in time to gasp as he was smothered in a ballooning cloud of thrall.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The cocooning warmth was almost overloading his senses, and Harry felt ecstasy as the pleasure shot through every nerve. He wanted more and more of it, and kept feeding the feeling, allowing magic to stream out from every pore of his body.

The sensation became more heat than warmth. As he grew lost to the feeling, Harry began to feel like he was really being cradled by arms, and he opened his eyes to see that someone was holding him close and they were surrounded by a pleasant shimmering mist. The lovely person in his arms was caressing him and nibbling down his neck, and Harry tilted his head to nuzzle the pale gold hair in return, bringing up his own hands to trail lithe fingers up and down the other's back. The veela in his arms moaned in response and bit harder, sucking and licking the sensitive spot.

Drunk on physical pleasure and intermingling thralls, the two veela would never have stopped if a third (and fourth) party hadn't suddenly interrupted their budding union.

"Mind if we join the orgy?" a husky voice asked, breaking through the haze that had caught hold of Draco's mind. Suddenly aware of his and Potter's uncontrollable thralls and the lust he felt, he jerked back to consciousness, retracted his thrall and pulled away from where he was gently gnawing on the green-eyed veela's pale throat.

Harry was slower to respond, and even reached out to take a hold of him again, but Draco slapped his hand away and wiped his mouth, dread vying with hysteria as he tried to make out the shadowy figures that approached him and Potter. "There is no orgy."

The twinkling vapor melted away to reveal two creatures, the like of which Draco wished he didn't know. They were both tall, built and had the typical goat like appendages - long thick tails, cloven hooves, curly coats, pointed perky ears, and a pair of twirled horns on their foreheads each. Looking down, he saw that they also boasted twin dripping erections, which jutted merrily out from the curly fur between their legs as the satyrs frisked around the two veela.

Draco groaned and elbowed Potter hard in the stomach. "_Idiot_!"

"Now, now, there's no need to be rough," laughed the brown satyr. "If you don't like the poor dear, I'll take him," he offered, practically salivating as he moved into the radius of Potter's still radiating thrall. Draco growled, and yanked Potter behind him, glancing over at where their wands lay, deep in crevices in the tree root behind the satyrs.

Plotting how to reach their wands, his attention was caught when the other satyr crooned in his ear, and a nimble hand crept up his side and under his shirt. "Don't be jealous, pretty," the honey-gold satyr said. "We can all share. You can have me first," he winked as he preened and tilted his hips for a better display.

"Go away, or I'll curse you," Draco threatened, jumping as a hand pinched him on the butt. He whirled and kicked between the satyr's legs, then scrambled out of reach, dragging Potter with him. The other veela was coming out of his daze slowly, but Draco felt no pity for him, and shook him till his teeth chattered. "_Snap_ _out of it, _Potter!" he snarled.

"What _are_ they?" Harry asked shakily, dodging a grabbing hand. Draco had a hold on his shirt and was almost choking him with it as he pulled him towards their wands.

"Satyrs, you damn imbecile. This is _all_ your fault!" the blonde veela snapped. "I _told_ you to be careful, you lousy excuse for a-" Any further insults were muffled by a cry as the enthusiastic gold satyr tackled Draco to the ground and promptly snogged him silly.

Harry gaped, then reached into the darkened hollow in the root to take his wand out, only to grasp nothing but thin air. "Huh?"

"Looking for this, lovely?" The brown haired satyr dangled Harry's wand under his nose, then snatched it away when he grabbed for it. "Uh, uh, uh… no presents till after the orgy," he said, curling his fluffy tail around Harry's thigh, and backing him towards the tree. "I'll make it worth your while," he whispered, tongue darting out to lick the veela's cheek, and tail creeping to and tickling the front of his pants.

"Erm, no thanks," Harry replied, as he slithered out from under the satyr's arms skillfully, and plucked his wand from where it was kept, wedged in the thick furs at the satyr's waist. "Maybe some other time." The lusty satyr lunged, and he swiftly ducked a flying kiss, then rolled and came up to point his wand at the satyr's back. "Stupefy!" The half goat half man creature immediately folded down to the ground, hooves tangling and tail limp, but still twitching now and then as he unconsciously humped the ground.

Harry quickly picked up Draco's wand and tossed it to the blonde veela where he was crawling away from the other satyr who was busy tugging on his pants. "Catch, Malfoy!"

Draco caught his wand, aimed it over his shoulder and shot another stupefying spell. Free at last from molestation, he scrambled to his feet and kicked the stunned satyr off his legs. "Potter, this was all your fault," he repeated as he tried to cover his torso with his ripped shirt and pull up his pants. "I should have just left you to be raped to death." He began spitting on the ground, and scrubbed his mouth with a sleeve.

"Hey, I just saved your ass," Harry said, affronted. "If it weren't for me, you'd be eaten alive by that satyr."

Draco winced. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even be here." He repaired his clothes with a wave of his wand, then pointed it between Harry's eyes. "You better be thankful I stopped your thrall when I did. You'd have had the whole Forest on your tail, you ungrateful nitwit!"

Harry glared daggers, but didn't move until Draco stopped aiming his wand at him. The blonde veela looked terribly shaken, and was shivering all over. Harry almost felt sorry for him… but not quite. "Shall we get on?" he asked.

"With what?" Draco snapped, conjuring water to gargle with. "The makeout session?" he asked bitingly, spitting into the mere.

"I need to learn how to make my thrall next to zero," Harry muttered. Oh dear. Was that Malfoy he had been touching just now? Of course it was. He refused to think about it further.

"If you can expand it so well, you can contract it, Potter," Draco hissed. "Just imagine it gone!" He spun on the spot and started striding out of the clearing, making sure to step on the golden satyr as he went. "I'm not staying in this godforsaken jungle anymore," he yelled as he neared the trees. "Find another place for lessons, Potter, or die trying." And with that, he disappeared into the forest.

Harry stood staring while Malfoy ran away, then a moan sounded from one of the lumps of satyr at his feet and the other began to stir. Thinking better of staying, he hurriedly took off in the same direction, concentrating on imagining his thrall gone, and praying the castle was near.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: Ugh. This chapter was horrible to write. Took me so many tries to get it done, and I'm sorry for the delay. It's pretty long, but there are several things I needed to clarify. And Draco just bullied his way into so much of the chapter; Snape hasn't had a chance to appear. Though… as one lovely reviewer suggested… maybe he's taking so long cos he's busy sniffing Harry's hair instead of investigating :P Hee!

I hope you guys like it though, and I'll try to make the next one better. Till then, REVIEW and tell me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: You guys… this is not going to be a DM/HP fic. (Though I do enjoy reading those. Hehe…) Draco appears a lot now, but every character will have their moments :P … Yeah, yeah… including Voldemort, don't worry :)

And also, loads of thanks to everyone for reviewing! You make me a better (and more hardworking) writer!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 5: Secrets Revealed

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts/

Draco strode through the halls of Hogwarts, cursing as every caress of air over his skin made him shiver. He was out of breath, and shivering, though not from cold – his body felt on fire, was filled with yearning for more solid touches, but he refused to give in to temptation and run his fingers over his skin. _Blast satyrs and their aphrodisiacal saliva,_ he thought furiously. He had been of half a mind for taking Potter right then and there in the forest just to relieve the itch. But Potter would have screamed blue murder, and besides, he had a feeling the Gryffindor was still a virgin - no point in seeking temporary relief when it would lead to complications.

The frantic pace he took and the fevered state Draco was in spooked the hall portraits, several of which had already called to him or fled to other floors to gossip. No doubt Filch was already trolling the dungeons, hoping to catch him for breaking curfew. Hopefully he'd catch Potter instead.

Finally Draco reached his destination. Flinging open the door to his bedroom in the Slytherin dormitory, he approached the shrouded black bed next to his and cast aside the thin curtains to reveal the sleeping figure behind. "Zabini."

Blaise stirred and slowly cracked an eye half open, peering from beneath long lashes at the rampaging Slytherin. "Draco... what is it?" he mumbled, half asleep.

"It's your one chance in a blue moon, Zabini." Draco whispered heatedly, gray eyes blazing. "Take it or leave it."

The dark haired Slytherin blinked, puzzled at his words. "Chance…?" he took a good look at his roommate, and suddenly comprehension flooded his sleep addled mind, jerking him awake. The pale veela was breathing heavily through his mouth, his shirt was plastered to moist sweaty skin, and he couldn't seem to stop clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Now?" Blaise asked disbelievingly, his sheet falling down as he sat up. Draco's eyes were deep pools of black ringed gray, which slit at his question just before he moved to turn away. Acting quickly, Blaise reached out and caught him around his waist, pulling him down onto the bed, surprised when he met no resistance. Draco merely arched his eyebrows as he halted. "Are you sure?"

His question seemed to irk the blonde who simply retorted condescendingly, "If you're up to it, Zabini."

Blaise couldn't believe his luck, but quickly squashed all doubts. He tightened his grip and flipped them both over on the bed, kneeling over Draco when they stopped. Draco smiled tightly and clasped his hands around his arms, silently urging him on. A sweet spicy scent was already beginning to permeate the air in their bedroom, and Blaise's blood responded, his nature springing to the fore.

Wasting no time, Blaise began, wide-awake now and fully determined to satisfy the Prince of Slytherin and stake his claim on the blonde wizard.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Several hours just before dawn found Draco in his own bed, pleasantly sated, but wide-awake. The shadows that streamed from the windows charmed to let in the moonlight shaded Blaise's sleeping figure when Draco glanced at his roommate. Blaise had been better than he'd expected, and Draco now had a clear head to undertake the task he'd had in mind since Friday night.

The blonde veela lay on his stomach, bent over a crackling piece of parchment. He brushed a quill across tingling lips, and contemplated what to write. His father had no patience for muddled information in correspondence, yet it was not their style to speak plainly. Since young, he had been taught the flair of veiled words, and it was habit now, to practice it. It was time to put it to good use. Uttering 'Lumos', he set his quill to paper, and proceeded to transcribe the extraordinary events of the past weekend.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Framlingham/

Lord Voldemort was pleased. It was daybreak; in just a few minutes his plan would be set in motion, and everything he had worked so hard for, for the past 50 years would eventually culminate in a spectacularly cunning way. They would be no slip-ups because this strategy was foolproof. Even that ancient muggle loving fool, Dumbledore, would never anticipate his grand plan.

Practically beaming with pride at his side was Lucius, his most competent follower. The veela was presenting a recent acquisition to Voldemort, eager for approval. They stood in a watchtower room, behind a one way viewing glass and before them on the ground floor stretched an expanse of machinery, the remnants of which were slowly being dismantled by muggle workers. The factory was the largest in the quaint sleepy town of Framlingham, and most of the workers were local, their livelihood already tied to what had previously been a small branch of a booming Muggle candy franchise.

A polite 'ahem' sounded from behind, interrupting his perusal. Lucius frowned at the audacity, but Voldemort graciously turned to attend to the matter. A lawyer casually waved a sheaf of documents and gestured, inviting them to sit, before spreading what looked like a very comprehensive sales and purchase agreement on the desk.

"This is the S&P sirs, for the sale of the factory, already signed by Mr. William and Charles," he nodded at the silent gentlemen at his side. "If you have reviewed and agree to all the terms stated, please place your signature here," he flipped the pages, " and here." Lucius bent and elegantly signed 'James Cadbury' in the blanks. "Thank you, and congratulations on obtaining the factory, sirs," the lawyer stood and shook hands with Lucius, settling for a smile and nod in Voldemort's case.

"I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Cadbury," the one named Charles said, approaching to shake Lucius' hand as well. Voldemort carefully scanned his mind, then the mind of the other behind him, making sure that they had no idea who they were dealing with. Charles seemed genuinely happy for them, and William, harder to read with eyes hidden behind thick round sunglasses, felt slightly fretful about the sale of the factory, but seemed to have accepted the deal. The lawyer's mind was already buzzing about his next case, and he was busy packing up the agreement papers.

Satisfied that all was moving smoothly, Voldemort waited while Lucius bid them goodbye, and till the room was empty.

"Everything has been arranged?"

"Yes, my Lord. The muggles think that we are from another muggle candy company called 'Cadbury', which is an old and trustworthy brand. They will not doubt our competition, since Cadbury has been eyeing the factory for months and the previous company owners, William and Charles, were moving elsewhere anyway. They can continue to work in the factory to make chocolate."

Voldemort nodded approvingly, "And my agenda?"

"Going smoothly. The underground chambers were already secret, and are to be sealed without entrances, and made unplottable. We will be totally concealed, my liege." Lucius continued, "Durand has already begun to recruit the best alchemists. Work should commence tomorrow, and equipment will be brought in according to their needs and specifications."

"Good." Voldemort stepped once again to the window. "Well done, Lucius," he acknowledged. Lucius bowed his head, momentarily smiling pleasantly.

"Thank you, my Lord." Taking a breath, he was about to say more, when a harsh scraping sound met their ears. A speckled black hawk owl was clawing at a high window on the wall, it's intelligent golden eyes trained on Lucius. "Why… that's Suria… my son's owl."

Voldemort watched as Lucius let the owl in and took the tiny black envelope off its leg, letting the owl perch on the table. He scanned through the letter, then frowned and began to reread it carefully. When he was done, he turned to Lord Voldemort, clearly excited about its contents.

"It seems that something has happened at Hogwarts, my Leige," he said, eyes bright with speculation. "The news from Draco is that Potter has been involved in a rather…" he twisted his lips, "odd potions accident."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"He appears to have contracted my son's and my condition, my Lord," Lucius finished, meaningfully.

"Really?" That was news indeed. Voldemort reached for the letter, and started reading the neat elegant script. Like his father, Draco had excellent penmanship.

_Dear Father, _

_I hope this letter finds you and mother well and in good health. Thank mother for the sweets she sent me last week, Greg and Vince really appreciated it. _

_Nothing much has happened since I last wrote, excepting that we finally brewed a level 6 potion in Potions class. As expected, many had problems with it, and Godfather was again pleased for the opportunity to assign detention. Thankfully, I escaped, as it was the same potion you remember I read about in Moste Potente Potions over the summer. It still gave me quite the headache though, what with all the hair tearing they caused me. I must really avoid such stress as it affects the brewing process. _

_In addition to that, I've recently found something new, Father. I wasn't sure at first, but I fancy I have discovered a changeling that has our mutually desired characteristics. Newborn, and quite abnormally transformed from the usual, Father, so I thought you'd be interested. Currently, I'm trying to catch it, and train it. It should be quite the task, and I anticipate great obstacles. Dumbledore, for instance, might not like that I keep it. So I think it's best it remains secret till you send me expert advice. You will, won't you? I'd rather not be kept in the Dark about what's best. _

_I think that's all for now, Father. My project looks to be quite absorbing, and I fear the Mudblood girl will hog all the books available in the library. Thank goodness we have a better one. But it's still disappointing that she and Potter gets away with such blatant selfishness. But then again, everything's about Potter these days. _

_Your loving son, _

_Draco. _

Voldemort looked up from the letter to Lucius. "The potion…?"

"Transmogrifying potion, my Lord. Draco was quite interested in it during summer. When Snape came over for a visit, they brewed a huge batch of it, which Draco used to transmogrify the statues into real live creatures. I believe he had a bit of a problem with the satyr statuettes. I shattered quite a few and the rest don't look half so decent anymore," he explained with a wry smile.

Lord Voldemort chuckled. "Yes… they do have a fondness for nymphs. Is that what Potter has become, Lucius? A veela?" he wondered, thinking about the effects of such a unique phenomenon.

"Draco says so," Lucius confirmed. "And he should be able to tell."

Voldemort nodded, "What an opportunity, then. The world savior turned Prince Charming." His pale thin lips formed a scheming smile. "It would be of greater significance if he were to join us, rather than die, don't you agree?"

Lucius blinked slowly, taking in the new idea. "He could be more useful alive than dead… especially considering his new powers. But how… if you are thinking of Draco…"

"Why Lucius. Surely you yourself are capable?" Voldemort said sharply, ignoring his unease. "You are Prince, after all."

Lucius relaxed a little, but frowned. "Ah, yes… but… Potter is only recently turned, as well as uncommonly stubborn and tied to Dumbledore's apron strings…"

"Then I expect you to find ways to tie him to me," Voldemort warned, red eyes glinting. "It will not be enough to simply inform him of your allegiance."

"Yes, it would take a lot more than that," Lucius agreed, predicting all manner of trouble ahead of him. It would be much easier to just kill the little brat, but Voldemort seemed to have changed his mind and wanted otherwise. He would just have to obey. "He's been trained to think only of defeating you though, I can't imagine what it would take to convince him to submit. I will need some time, my Lord," he said, requesting permission from his master.

"As long as you give me results, Lucius," Voldemort spoke sternly. "Start tonight. Send Wormtail to scout first. I want to see how the change has affected our golden boy." His thin lips curved upwards in a predator like smile as he imagined how he could turn this newest development to his advantage. "Keep me updated, Lucius, and make this your prime concern."

Lucius gracefully inclined his head. "As you wish. Should I inform Draco of your decision, my Liege? He is in an ideal position, and has already established himself as a guide for Potter."

Voldemort looked at the letter still in his hand. The gold text was beginning to melt into the parchment, and soon no traces of ink would mar the perfectly blank surface. "Yes, let him help you," he hissed softly and glanced up at Lucius. "Your son shows promise, Lucius. Your alliance with Narcissa bore fruit, it seems," he added wickedly.

Lucius wrinkled his nose slightly, but kept a neutral expression. "Thank you, my Lord. Draco is indeed a credit to me. I will attend to this matter immediately, by your leave," he said, apparating away.

The Dark Lord watched him go with an amused expression. Lucius never enjoyed his allusions to his bonding. It looked like he never would. But it didn't matter. He would follow his orders, and soon the Potter boy would be just such a pawn in his hand.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts, dungeons/

Sunrise at Hogwarts was always a routine and serene process; the castle itself would stir first, its stones creaking and groaning as they warmed. Then paintings would begin to wake and greet each other, recounting dreams and secrets rendezvous of the night before. The busy house elves were familiar with their chatter and other regular goings on, and hardly paused as they changed shifts and retired for the day or rose to resume their work. Hours before their charges woke the house elves were already scurrying through secret corridors, careful not to wake the sleepy students and staff.

Some of them however, were used to the habits of certain castle inhabitants, and would perform special routine tasks that were much needed, even at or especially at such early hours of the morning. One such elf was Winky.

"Good morning, Professor Snape, sir," Winky greeted cheerfully, popping into the Potion Master's study with a tray and a mug of coffee - no cream, no sugar, and scalding hot, just as he always preferred it.

"Errgh…" Snape groaned, stirring at his desk. He lifted his sallow face from his arms and stared blearily at the house elf. "What time is it, Winky?"

"It is being 6 o'clock, sir," she informed him as she drew curtains from windows charmed to let in sunlight. "Is there anything sir is wanting Winky to be doing, sir?" she asked, when he sat up and creakily stretched.

"No, Winky, everythings fi-" Snape paused, recalling the events of the night before. _Potter's hair…_ he thought as he picked up the gleaming strand on his desk. He had spent the whole night testing it with cocktails of potions, had poured over numerous books. He had dreaded proving himself right, but there was no way around it. Potter was a veela. And it was because of the potion he'd assigned him to do. What would Dumbledore say?

"Sir?" Winky asked, worried. Professor Snape sir didn't look quite well. He hadn't gone to bed again, a habit that perpetually vexed her, but she had given up a long time ago on convincing him to rest. For all the care he was capable of, and she had first hand experience of that, he was miserly in giving it to himself.

"I don't need anything, thank you. You may go," Snape answered wearily, as the house elf began wringing her ears. She gave him a suspicious look, but snapped her fingers and disappeared with a disapproving crack that made him wince.

The coffee she'd left was slowly cooling down, so Snape began to sip at it, enjoying its aroma and letting it clear his mind from sleep. He twirled Potter's hair in one hand as he debated what to do. Dumbledore would of course have to be informed. And he would have to find out who knew of the boy's condition. Granger and Weasley were the likely suspects but they would surely keep it secret. That trio was so tight knit and secretive, that for all his skills as a spy, he still didn't know how they managed to squirrel away Black three years ago.

Besides them, Draco probably knew as well, which might be a problem. His godson would surely tell his father about it. And telling Lucius meant telling Voldemort. And Voldemort would expect to hear such news from him - he might suspect that Snape was keeping secrets from him. Already there were rumours among the Death Eaters that he was a traitor, he didn't need to give Voldemort more reason to doubt him. But if Voldemort still didn't know… should he tell him?

Snape sighed. It all depended on what Draco knew. And there was only one way to find that out.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts, Great Hall/

Breakfast was a sorry affair for Draco. He felt sleepy and irritable, as he usually slept till late on Sundays. This time he'd opted to wake up early, just to see how Potter handled himself in the Gryffindor mob. It was supposed to be an amusing sight, except the little sod hadn't turned up yet.

Draco sighed and buttered a piece of toast. He had sent his owl off at two, maybe three o'clock. It would only reach him back at midday, if his father replied instantly. He wondered what he might be told to do. There were a few possibilities that quite terrified him to think of, really. The chief of which was the thought that Voldemort might want him to bond with Potter. It would be a perfect way to get a leash on Potter and it would be so convenient for the Dark Lord. He could only hope that his father would help him; after all he shouldn't want his son to go through what he had. The pain of letting a mate go to bond with another was one that no veela should have to endure. Draco shivered at the thought. His own mate was blissfully unaware of their tie to him, and he didn't mind that the situation remain that way. But it would break him to be forced to bond with another. The thought itself gave him nausea and made him want to heave. Or… that could just be because of the hand sliding up his thigh.

"Hands off, Zabini." Draco said furiously. He kicked the dark incubus under the table, hiding a smirk behind a glass of pumpkin juice at the other boy's yelp. "Last night was your first and last chance," he hissed warningly, as he felt tendrils of Zabini's power try to sooth him.

"But Draco… we could be so good for each other," Blaise whispered near his ear. "You would never have to worry about me, and I can give you everything you need," he tried to convince the cranky veela. "Didn't I, last night?"

Draco's eyes withered his roommate. "Stop trying, Zabini."

"But…"

"The only reason why I don't fry you on the spot now, is because we're in public, so keep your hands and your bloody powers to yourself," said Draco, allowing his face to morph slightly to reflect his irritation. Just one night had exposed his secret to Blaise and already the incubus was pressuring him.

Blaise's eyes widened and he immediately turned to his other side and started chatting up Pansy, who batted her eyelashes and replied in sweet coos, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder. Draco sighed and wished he had made the effort to wake Greg and Vince. Then he wouldn't have to endure this.

Just as he was debating returning to his bed, a paper napkin flashed into being on his plate, right beside his eggs. '_Meet me in my office, Draco_' flashed in green across the tissue before it faded away. The blonde veela blinked, then picked it up and wiped his mouth, crumpling it. He had had a feeling this would happen soon. There was nothing he could do but obey, and fast – his godfather was not one to be kept waiting.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts, Dungeons/

Winky watched as Snape paced around his room. His breakfast was half finished, and she had no intention of removing it till it was. Professor Snape sir was much too thin, she huffed.

Unfortunately, Snape heard the slight puff of air, and came to a stop in front of the house elf. "Winky, you may leave now, I'm not eating anymore," he said.

"Professor Snape sir is growing much too skinny," she replied stubbornly.

"I'm _fine_, Winky. You have to stop taking all this trouble about me."

Winky frowned. "If it wasn't for Professor Snape sir, Winky would not be here. Winky must repay Professor Snape sir for saving Winky."

Snape growled, "If you feel obligated, go find Dumbledore. It was by his orders that I gave you that antidote. He is the one who helped you."

"But _sir_ is the one who is making Winky no longer drinking Butterbeer, sir."

"It was a simple Sobering potion, girl!" Snape snapped, exasperated. "How about Dobby then? He asked Dumbledore for the potion, and he was the one who has cared for you all this time. Go look after him," he ordered.

"Winky is already looking after Dobby, sir. But Dobby is a wonderful house elf, and he is saying Winky should be looking after sir," she retorted.

Snape ground his teeth and refused to reply. His own mother had never bothered him as much as Winky. He was just about to suggest he return the trays to the kitchen himself when a knock sounded at the door. Feeling unnaturally grateful, he quickly opened it and stepped outside, ignoring Winky's calls.

"Draco, we have an appointment with Dumbledore," informed Snape. His godson glanced curiously at the door no doubt having caught a glimpse of Winky. Snape snarled as he turned to lead the way, and they both walked in silence to the Headmaster's office.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

/Hogwarts, Headmaster's office/

Dumbledore viewed the two Slytherins at his desk over his morning cup of Earl Grey. Draco was busy stirring his iced lemon tea and ignoring Snape, who was sneaking peeks at him from the corner of his eyes as he drank his coffee. Dumbledore smiled amiably and waited, content to let the two stew in their thoughts.

Finally, his potions master took the initiative. "Headmaster, there was an incident on Friday night, that I think you should know about," he looked at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy here had an unfortunate encounter with Mr. Potter during his detention, which resulted in him losing some hair."

"Is that so, Severus?" Dumbledore said, setting down his cup and turning to Draco. "And how are you, Draco? Losing so much hair at once must be quite weakening. Do you feel that you require medical assistance? I'm sure Poppy would know what to do," he offered, gazing concernedly at his student.

"No sir. I'm quite alright." Draco replied curtly.

"Perhaps a little hair tonic then," Dumbledore looked at Snape.

"No need, sir. I've handled the problem," Draco interjected, pointedly brushing the fringe of his luxurious hair from his eyes. "I used extensions."

"I see, I see…" chuckled the Headmaster. Of course, it wasn't the real matter anyway. But what was? Severus would tell him. He glanced inquiringly at Snape.

"I fear Mr. Potter might have discovered what Mr. Malfoy is, Headmaster," Snape answered smoothly.

"Oh dear me. And is there any chance of that, Draco?"

Draco scowled. So this was what it was about. Potter. Trust Snape to figure it all out. _He must be trying to find out if I know, and whether I've told Father._ The blonde hesitated before answering. "I haven't told him that I'm a veela. If he has guessed, he hasn't threatened to tell anyone. But of course since we're rivals, I wouldn't count on that lasting," he finally said, looking Dumbledore in the eye.

"Indeed, Draco, " Dumbledore remarked, interest perked. "You have every single hair back, I trust? Wouldn't do to leave evidence around, even if Harry probably wouldn't tell anyone."

The blonde veela was beginning to wonder if Dumbledore knew too. "Most of them. Some were with Crabbe and Goyle who helped me, but I've taken them back and destroyed them."

"None with Potter?" Snape inquired.

"He didn't pick any up." _But he did ingest one, being the stupid prat he is_, Draco thought irritably.

"I see." Snape narrowed his eyes. Draco was a skillful conversationalist, and devious to the core sometimes. He'd been using a little Legilimency throughout the conversation, and so far, his godson had told no lies. No… but he had told plenty of half-truths, Snape could tell. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, he thought.

"Do you think we should inform your father in any case, Draco? He might want to know of any threat to his son," Dumbledore suggested, making both Snape and Draco look sharply at him. He hummed a bit and twinkled. "I wouldn't want Lucius to feel that I do not play my part in protecting your secret, Draco," he added, smiling disarmingly. "I remember he had quite a temper when he was here. Why, there was an incident with the Marauders once, when I believe he scorched-"

"That won't be necessary, sir," Draco interrupted hurriedly.

"You have told him already, is that it?" Snape attacked, his eyes saying 'do not lie to me, Draco'.

Draco gazed blandly at his godfather, glad that he had prepared an answer to that. "I haven't spoken to my father yet, Professor. I don't think he would be concerned about me losing hair anyway. Our magic is strong, and whatever weakness I might have had, would only have diminished my thrall for a few days. Hardly anything to be worried about, since that is what we strive for."

Snape eyed him, annoyed at his answer. Draco shrugged in his mind. It didn't matter. The secret seemed to be out. To all parties concerned. His godfather knew he was being ambiguous, which he would take to mean that he was hiding something. Since the spoken conversation would be too inane otherwise, Dumbledore would also know that something was up.

"Well… if you think it not necessary, then I will not insist, Draco," Dumbledore said slowly. "The effects don't seem to be detrimental." He turned to Snape. "If there is nothing else, Severus…"

"You may leave Mr. Malfoy," Snape dismissed Draco. "Come by my office sometime and I'll give you a new supply of antiserum."

Draco nodded, "Thank you, Professor." He gracefully stood and walked to the door, shutting it quietly as he left. Thank goodness it was over, and Snape hadn't compelled him to say anything outright. Now he would find his bed or jinx the next person who disturbed him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dumbledore again waited patiently when all Snape did was slouch in his chair and purse his lips after his student's departure. The conversation with Draco had left him with raging curiosity, and he was sure Snape could enlighten him. But Severus did so like to sulk uninterrupted, he thought, amused.

Eventually Snape looked up to meet his gaze. "What happened on Friday, Headmaster, was a catastrophe. I'm very sure some of Draco's hair got into Potter's potion, and the boy was covered in it by the time I arrived. It was Transmogrifying potion, Albus," he explained seriously.

"And you are suggesting that…" Dumbledore stopped halfway, uncertain.

"I _know _that it took effect, and Potter is now a veela, same as Draco and Lucius. What's worse, Draco seems to know about it, and I suspect he has informed his father," Snape said in a rush. "Voldemort will soon know, and he is sure to try to use this for something."

"Calm down, Severus," Dumbledore said. "This is a grave matter indeed, if that is so."

"It is so, Headmaster. I guarantee it."

"Then we must find some way to overcome it. In the first place, does Harry know about it himself?" the headmaster asked.

"Yes. And so does Granger and Weasley." Snape paused. "Potter was using makeup to cover up, which was surely Granger's idea."

"That is not enough," said Dumbledore, lines creasing and furrowing his brow. "Harry needs to know how to hide himself."

"If I wasn't so sure Draco would refuse, I'd suggest he teach the boy. But those two have never gotten along," Snape said, shaking his head. "The only way I see, is to get another veela here to teach him. Or have Lupin tutor him. I might even be able to make something… but that would take too much time."

"Another veela? There are none who would come. The veela's have allied with Voldemort. It was to be expected, with their increasing unrest due to the Ministry's mating restrictions, and with Lucius leading them as Prince. The only one still neutral at best, I think is Fleur Delacour, and she is in Egypt with the eldest Weasley," Dumbledore mused. "No, Harry will have no veela to guide him, I'm afraid. Remus will have to do his best. If you can though, I'd like you to try to convince Draco. We might be surprised."

"Maybe," Snape replied noncommittally. "And Voldemort?"

"He would have eventually found out, Severus," Dumbledore said wearily. "If not through Draco, then through others. He has resources… more than we have." The old wizard sighed. With the fall of Azkaban and the loosing of the Dementors, more and more people were hiding rather than fighting, and he suspected, not few were finally showing their stripes and turning against their side. It was all they could do these days to just keep track and respond. They needed a plan, but so far, every one had failed.

"Then… what about the matter of his mate?" Snape posed.

"Mate? Do you know who it is, Severus?" Dumbledore asked surprised. Surely there was none at Hogwarts. He would have noticed the tension… but then, unlike Draco, Harry hadn't been a veela until recently, and it wouldn't have been so obvious.

"No. But… he will begin to feel the need for his mate soon, whoever it is."

The headmaster thought it over a while. A mate would make Harry stronger - their joining would augment the boy's already tremendous powers. But whoever it was would also gain some measure of control over Harry.

"Wait and see who it is, Severus. Tell me if you find out. He or she would be most important for Harry… and for us," he said finally. "If he needs it, you might give him the antiserum… but not until he feels the pull. We have to know who it is," he said with guilty conviction. It was another case of him meddling in the boy's life. Harry would be angry to find out, but what had to be done had to be done. "I'm afraid we have to choose what's best for Harry."

Snape's black eyes narrowed as he thought it over. "I will do as you say, Albus. It seems there is no hiding this from Voldemort for long as you say. But in the matter of a mate… making the decision for him might just push the boy away," he warned.

"That is why you have to help me, Severus. Keep a watchful eye out for Harry. For his sake, I hope we will not have to give him the antiserum."

"And… for ours?" Snape asked shrewdly.

Dumbledore looked disillusioned and old when he replied. "And for ours. We have to do what's best," he added, a faint hint of sorrow passing over his face. "Even if… that might not be what we want," he finished in a sad whisper.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: Eh… I like this chapter, though I meant to put a lot more in it and couldn't as things dragged on so. Don't worry though, Harry will appear in the next chapter, and we'll see Wormtail, and if you're observant, the first hint of Harry's and Voldemort's connection, hee:P

P.S. I might update a little later this time, as I have a lot of homework and tests coming up. I'd like to update weekly though, and the other chapter should be only a few days later than a week from now. Till then, encourage me and REVIEW!


	7. Chapter 7

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: Sorry I'm late… I just finished Finals… I was hoping to update before exams, but it didn't turn out. Anyway, this story is very much going on, so don't worry:P

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 6: Internal Conflict

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Hogwarts//

The halls of Hogwarts were deserted in the early hours of the morning, when Harry sneaked back into the castle. He had been skulking around the grounds, keeping away from the forest and mostly circling the Quidditch pitch as he practiced smothering his thrall. The winds had been cold and bitter in the open field, but Harry hadn't minded. The act of cradling his arms about himself and huddling against the chill, had helped his mind adapt to the metaphysical feat of retracting his thrall into an encompassing layer of veiled attraction. He could feel it now against his skin, feathery soft and tingling, and it made him smile as he crept through the empty Entrance Hall. Everyone else was still in bed, or having breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry wondered for a moment whether he should join them, then decided that he would sneak down into the kitchens for a bite instead. He wasn't in the mood to deal with other people's attentions yet, and hopefully his dampened thrall wouldn't work on the elves. They were another species after all.

He hummed happily to himself as he made his way to the kitchen, thinking about how much better he felt after mastering control of his thrall. Harry hadn't realised how troubled he had been since finding out he was a veela, but the incidents at the bar and Snape breathing down his neck had made him nervous and insecure, wondering what the next encounter would bring. When the spell failed he'd lost hope of ever being normal, and the prospect of remaining a veela had scared him more than he cared to admit. While wandering in the forest, all he could think of in the back of his mind was how he had become even more eccentric than he had been, and how nobody would want him for himself now. Just for the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Become-A-Bloody-Veela.

Harry frowned as he revisited his thoughts on the issue. Being a veela only complicated his life the way he saw it. It had already caused Ron and Neville to act weird around him, what would it do when the rest of the school found out? Harry had no illusions that he would be able to hide what he had become for very long. The fact that Malfoy had been able to do it wasn't something he could take and apply to himself. He had always been under the limelight, for good or bad; more often for bad. Sooner or later, the secret would be out, and he would have to deal with everybody's reactions and opinions. Would the world shun him then? Or would they crush him under their attention, Harry wondered.

The bleak future he imagined for himself threatened to cloak him in depression again, but Harry refused to submit. The situation was different now, he reasoned, trying to ward of dark thoughts and regain his cheerful spirit. Malfoy had given him hope and he could already almost hide the veela in him. He would learn more from the Slytherin, and soon be able to suppress and squash and stamp out the foreignness that was never meant to be. He would make it as if it never was, and nobody would know better. _I will keep this secret as long as it can be kept,_ Harry told himself firmly. There was no reason to ever act or be like a veela, no matter that he now was.

_Oh? And what about… a mate?_ a voice suddenly said in his mind, murderously mowing down his newfound resolution._ Don't you think… that they might like you to be the veela you are?_ Harry stopped short halfway down the corridor to the portrait with the ticklish pear. A mate… a person who was supposed to be the partner of his soul. He dithered over the new concept. He or she should want him unconditionally… should accept all that he was, and always be by his side. The thought made a shiver run down his back. They would be tied to him so completely, they could never leave, he realised. Suddenly feeling feverish with excitement, the veela clenched his hands in his shirt and hugged himself. He could never have expected that from anyone before. But now that he was a veela… if he could find that one person, and have them want him, then they would be together always…

"Till death do us pa-" he began to whisper fascinatedly eyes wide and staring. Then all of a sudden, a shock ran through him, and the archaic verse registered in his mind. Death.

Whoever he mated with, would share his death, just as they shared his life. It was a fact that veelas and their mates never survived each other's demise by more than a few precious seconds. To try to keep either alive for longer was tantamount to torture, and was even prohibited of mediwitches and wizards. That meant that the moment he died, his mate would follow. Harry's heart plunged as realisation set into his bones. He could never mate. He was hunted, had been since a year old. He would probably never live past his twentieth birthday. How could he think to inflict such a curse on his own mate? Harry lifted his hands to his head, ruffling his hair and then scrubbing at his eyes. Why was he crying? He didn't have to cry. He just would never mate. Never look for them. Never need them. Harry clenched his fists and dug fingernails into his palm.

Already a hollowness had begun to take residence in his chest, sending black weeds of grief stabbing into his heart. He wasn't going to have a mate, Harry promised himself, ignoring the hurt and trying not to think anymore about the matter. _If I live, then I'll consider again. Till then… I'll just… not be with anyone_, he thought sadly. Hogwarts and Ron and the Weasleys, Hermione, Hagrid and Lupin was enough. Had to be enough. Harry swallowed thickly and began walking down the corridor, as icy shards of pain started to stab his heart.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Hogwarts Grounds//

Snape growled softly to himself as he cut his way across meandering paths and descended the roughly hewn steps in the slope towards Hagrid's hut. Or rather, Lupin's hut now.

His conversation with Dumbledore had ended on a rather unsavory note, in his opinion. He had been burdened with the task of informing Lupin of Harry's transformation, something he did not anticipate seeing as he'd never really gotten along with the werewolf. But Dumbledore had insisted and he himself knew how important it was that as few people as possible came to know of Potter's condition. So it was, that Snape found himself acting as messenger boy, and creeping down to the shack in the cold morning.

The potions master refused to hike his robes up as he came to a muddy patch in what was left of Hagrid's prized pumpkin patch. Lupin had tried tending to the pumpkins, but they had died without Hagrid's expert care, and what remained was rotted and squelchy. Distastefully wrinkling his nose, he waded through the boggy earth and stopped in front of the huge wooden door, rapping sharply twice to alert the werewolf to his presence.

"Who is it?" Lupin asked, sounding faint from within. "If it's you, Poppy, I was coming to the castle anyway, in half an hour. You needn't have come all the way dow-"

"It's me." Snape said curtly, trying and managing to push the door ajar. Why on earth didn't Lupin lock his door?

"Oh…" Lupin answered, sounding surprised and… was that a hint of anxiety Snape detected? "Please come in and make yourself at home, I'll be right with you in a second," he said, the last part slightly muffled.

Snape pushed the door fully open and stepped into the hut, looking around as he did so. It wasn't so much a hut now, he observed. When Hagrid had lived here, the one-roomed hut's ceiling had been hung with salted or smoked carcasses of rabbits, pheasants and boars. There had been a huge table with matching chairs. The floor had been littered with shaggy animal skin mats, baskets filled with cut logs for the fire, stands of spears, a huge bow with matching arrows, and Fang's bed of blankets in a corner. Hagrid's own huge bed had been along the wall perpendicular to the cupboards and the fireplace facing the door.

Beside windows with lacy white curtains, and opposite his bed had been rugged shelves made of leveled planks of wood on stacked bricks. The makeshift shelves used to be loaded with odds and ends that Hagrid deemed ornaments, such as birds and wasps nests, chains of grindylow horns and dragon scales, swathes of dangling multicolored mermaid hair and the rare dream catchers that Hagrid had found time to weave from unicorn tail hairs. All in all, the collection of unusual belongings had made the hut seem exactly like what it had been. A gamekeeper's abode.

Now the hut had taken on a new personality, one that Snape found he rather preferred. Lupin had magically expanded the wooden hut into a sort of log house and cleared away all the hanging dead animals. The brown-gold log walls made the atmosphere inviting, though the room Snape found himself in was cold in the absence of a fire in the fireplace. Lacking Hagrid's décor, the main room seemed bare with only a few brightly woven rugs on the floor, two winged chairs by the fireplace, and a round table with four chairs near the green curtained windows. The shelves still remained, but Hagrid's belongings must have been kept, as they held only old worn books and several framed pictures.

Having surveyed the room and beginning to feel impatient, Snape started towards a door near the dining table set. It led to a small kitchen that smelt faintly of coffee and toast, but Lupin wasn't there so Snape backtracked and headed to the closed door at the wall where Hagrid's bed had been. Guessing that it was a bedroom, Snape was wondering whether to knock before entering, when a soft yelp sounded from within. "Lupin," he said in warning, as he opened the door.

"Don't-" Remus protested too late, as his bedroom was invaded by Snape. The potions master entered and looked down his beak-like nose at Remus where he sat on the bed. His piercing black eyes raked across the werewolf's bare torso noting every bruise and scrape he sported, then continued down his body to where the others were hidden by ragged pants as if he could see those too. "It's not as bad as it looks," said Remus in defense, trying to reach a scraped patch on his right shoulder blade with a wet wash cloth.

"Oh? It looks like you tried to eat a troll this time," Snape retorted. "Or he tried to eat you."

Remus grunted, stretching painfully to dab at his back. "Nothing so dramatic, Snape. Just a rougher night than usual," he said, sighing as he reached the spot. "A few hours and I'll be fine."

"Yes, you do heal awfully quickly," Snape said. "Though why on earth you still want to go out and act like an animal is beyond me, seeing as you take wolfsbane and should have more sense than that," he said, curling his lips disdainfullly.

Exhaling in soft chuckles, Remus got up to dispose of the bloodied cloth. "Sometimes, it's better if I go out, Snape. It has nothing to do with your potion," he said, searching for and putting a shirt on. "I keep my wits thanks to it, but the instinct to roam is sometimes overpowering."

Snape grimaced at Lupin's mention of his potion's inability to subdue the werewolf's instinct. He would have to find a way to enhance it, if what the werewolf said was right. "I was under the impression that having human wits, you should be able to ignore those… instincts," he said, slightly affronted. "But if you find it so hard, you should have come to me, I would have improved the potion."

"It's not that, Snape." Remus sighed. "I only go once in a while, and it's a conscious decision." How was he to explain that sometimes he missed the thrill of a hunt, and needed to let his inner beast out? Deciding to change the topic he asked, "Anyway, what is it you wanted to see me about, Snape? Surely it wasn't just concern over my condition."

Snape frowned, but followed Lupin's lead. "I have something to tell you about Potter, on Dumbledore's orders," he said, walking after the werewolf as he left the bedroom and went across the living room to the kitchen.

Glancing sharply up at Snape over the coffee machine, Remus asked "Is he in trouble?" then poured two cups and offered one to him.

"No. But he might soon be," Snape answered vaguely, moving towards the living room.

Remus followed, lit a fire in the fireplace with a muttered 'Incendio", then sat in one of the winged chairs leaving the other for Snape. "What do you mean?"

"On Friday, I gave Potter detention. He was to brew a Transmogrifying potion," Snape explained. "When I went to check on him, Malfoy and Potter were fighting, and Potter had performed a hair ripping curse on Malfoy," he paused, sipping the coffee and allowing Lupin a moment to think of the implications.

"Mr. Malfoy is a veela, isn't he?" Remus mused. "Harry couldn't have known that… it must have been pure luck that he managed to target his weakest point. But why is this important?"

Snape snorted. "By pure bad luck, one of the hairs fell into Potter's potion, which he surprisingly managed to complete. In retaliation, Malfoy blew up the cauldron, splashing Potter with the potion. Normally," he continued, staving off Lupin's enquiry, "this would not have had lasting effects; Potter would have become a veela, but not stayed one permanently." Lupin's eyes had widened considerably by now, and Snape smirked inwardly with sadistic satisfaction. "But all my tests have indicated that he still is and will remain a veela forever."

"What? Why?" gasped Remus. "Surely you can-"

"I cannot. Potter's blood was mixed with the brew, making it more than a simple transmogrification potion. I do not know what it became, such an occurrence has never happened before. But the fact remains that Potter has transformed, and as yet, no existing antidote exists for his condition." Snape concluded. Perhaps he could find one, he thought, but it would take months if not years. Better not to get anyone's hopes up.

Remus sighed and bowed his head in thought. After a few seconds, he asked quietly. "What does Dumbledore say?"

"He wants you to teach Potter how to conceal what he's become, and how to cope with the transformation." Snape answered. "Ideally, he should learn from another veela, but they are allied with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and cannot be trusted. You are the only one left who knows enough."

"I hardly know more than the average person, Snape," Remus said, shaking his head. "How can Harry depend on me?"

"Either he depends on you, or he flounders by himself." Snape replied firmly. "And you're the next best thing to a veela."

"I don't know enough about them, Snape!" Remus protested. "He never told me more than what I should or shouldn't do as his mate! How on earth is that supposed to be relevant to Harry?"

Snape leaned back in his chair and gazed at Lupin. "You are a specialist in magical creatures."

"All learnt from textbooks or personal experience. But we both agreed early on that we wouldn't mate, and I am not equipped with the knowledge to help Harry!" Remus insisted exasperatedly.

"Equipped or not, you are the one Dumbledore entrusted with the task. I have done my part and informed you of the incident," Snape replied, standing up and walking over to set his cup down on the dining table. "I have other things to do besides."

Remus looked up at the potions master. "Regarding Harry?" When Snape didn't reply, he guessed, "You aren't going to tell-"

"I'm going to do what I have to do, Lupin." Snape interrupted. "It would be best if you found Potter as soon as possible. At the very least, you might be able to tell him what you observed from your mate," he said, slipping out the front door.

"Wait!" Remus called, as he hurried to the door. "Are you going on Dumbledore's orders?" he asked, his hushed voice almost inaudible in the open air.

Snape scowled back at him but didn't reply and carried on striding away while Remus watched. Soon the potions master reached Hogwarts' main gates, where he disappeared in the blink of an eye as he stepped beyond the boundary. Sighing with unease, Remus retreated into his hut and shut the door. If Snape was going to do what Remus thought he would do, then Harry would need all the help he could get. Hopefully, he would be able to give it, the werewolf thought as he drank the last of his now cold coffee. Grimacing at the taste, he decided to continue breakfast at Hogwarts and to find Harry as soon as possible.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Hogwarts, Kitchens//

The kitchens at Hogwarts was a flurry of activity. Elves cracked in and out of the room, snapped fingers at leaping utensils, and moved food around with hurried gestures. The noise was at a high level, yet even with all the chatting, exchanging of orders and occasional cries of alarm or annoyance, Harry found the place had a calming effect on him.

Upon entering the room, he had been immediately swamped by elves, all enquiring after his wants. Then Dobby had descended upon them and shooed the rest away, situating himself and Harry in a corner and promptly piling food on plates for his favorite wizard. They had been left alone since, for which Harry was very grateful. He started to eat breakfast, gaining momentum with every mouthful, while Dobby watched approvingly at his enormous apetite.

"Dobby is very happy Harry Potter is eating very much," the little elf said, pushing a plate of sausages nearer the veela, "since Harry Potter hasn't been coming to breakfast, lunch and dinner yesterday," he added reprovingly, large eyes staring at Harry.

Harry swallowed a mouthful of bread and cheese before answering. "I'm sorry Dobby, I was er… busy with something," he said, reaching for a cup of pumpkin juice.

"I is knowing," Dobby answered. "that Harry Potter is busy becoming a veela," he said quietly, then paused to hand Harry a napkin when he choked. "Is you being alright?" he asked with concern, mopping up pumpkin juice from the table.

Harry finished sputtering, and started stuttering instead. "Ho-how do you know, Dobby?" he asked, frantically checked his thrall, making sure it was as thin and flat as he could make it. "Is it that obvious?" whispered the veela, suspiciously eyeing the other elves as they passed by.

"Harry Potter is not needing to be worried," Dobby answered reassuringly. "They is not knowing. Dobby is only knowing because Dobby was on duty for the Gryffindor dorm that night," he said quietly. "Dobby was picking up hats in the common room again," he smiled, "because no other elf is wanting to do it. And then Dobby felt very strong magic in Harry's room. Dobby is knowing only Harry and Mr. Weasley is sleeping there, and thought that something wrong is happening. Dobby is not wanting bad things to be happening to Harry again, so Dobby went to check, and then Dobby _saw_…" the house elf paused significantly, eyes wider than teacups.

"Saw…?" Harry repeated faintly. What did it look like, when he had changed?

The house elf stood on his chair and leaned very, very close. "Dobby saw Harry Potter becoming veela," he whispered, pencil-like nose poking Harry's ear. "Harry was wriggling and twisting on floor like in pain, and there was light everywhere. Dobby put a spell around Weasley so light wouldn't wake him, but Dobby couldn't stop magic." He prodded at Harry. "Dobby is not knowing what would happen if Dobby touched Harry, so Dobby is leaving Harry on the floor," he finished and leaned back. When Harry didn't respond he asked, "Harry… is not angry at Dobby, for leaving Harry on floor?" A hint of worry coloured his voice, and his eyes widened again.

"What? N-no, of course not, Dobby. That was perfectly fine, I'm just… glad you know…" Harry trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"Then what is being wrong, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.

Harry sighed, then pushed his plate away. "Why does this always happen to me, Dobby," he complained, wishing Dobby had been able to stop the magic. Or at least have told someone, gotten help or something. Then he would have just woken up human. "I don't understand why everything bad has to happen to me."

The veela looked so despondent that Dobby couldn't help feeling sorry for him. "Because Harry Potter is special," he said, shrugging small shoulders. "Harry thinks it is a bad thing," he observed, "but maybe Harry is not knowing exactly what a veela is."

Harry snorted. "What is there to know, Dobby? Veela are magical creatures that lure people with their thrall. They have no use except to tempt others and make them do stupid things. Their one purpose in life is to find their mate and bond with them. There is absolutely _no_ good that can come out of me suddenly being a veela," he explained. "I _don't_ want the extra attention, and I can't even have a mate because it would just complicate things even more! What do you think they'll do when they find that the Boy-Who-Lived is their mate? They'll either be too obsessed with the fact that they're with a 'celebrity', or they'll hate me for bringing them into danger. If miraculously, my mate understands and likes me and actually wants to bond with me, then I'll have to worry about protecting them, and if I fail… that's one more person who will die because of me, Dobby!" he ended, voice harsh and loud.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Dobby glared at his fellow house elves till they went back to work, then turned back to the brooding veela. "Harry is obviously not knowing anything about veela," he said forcefully. "Veela is _not_ just seducing people all the time. Veela is always looking for their mate." He squashed Harry's response with a look. "They is looking for a mate, just like humans, just like house elves, just like any kind of creature in the world. They is just more special because they is not making mistakes when they choose. They is looking for only one person in all the millions that are living."

Harry shook his head. "I don't need that one person."

Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter should not be saying that. You is not knowing what a mate is doing for you." He smacked Harry reproachfully, startling the wizard. "Maybe becoming veela is the best thing Harry is doing," he said critically.

"And why is that?" asked Harry skeptically as he rubbed his arm - Dobby had long bony fingers.

Dobby lowered his voice. "Veela is legendary creatures. Dobby's mother tell Dobby when Dobby is young, that long, long ago, veela was called Wila. They is fierce warriors, that shake the earth when they is in battle." Dobby smiled. "Harry is becoming stronger when Harry is changing to become Wila. And Harry's mate is helping him."

"I'm not so sure about that, Dobby. It sounds like an old wives tale," Harry said lightly. "And I don't need to shake the earth, I just need to survive Voldemort."

"Wila is not only shaking the earth," Dobby insisted. "They is controlling storms."

"Drenching Voldemort isn't going to help," Harry smiled, in spite of himself.

"They is knowing the future-"

"Oh? Well, Trelawney is knowing the future too, and she said, Voldemort is killi-"

"They is healing, Harry. Surely that is something that you is wanting to have?" Dobby said, slyly, "Maybe now Harry is a veela, and is able to save people who is getting hurt - for Harry?"

Harry's smile faded, thinking of saving the people who had and would get hurt for him. "That would be wonderful, Dobby," he said. "If it were possible."

The house elf stated blandly, "It is very possible, Harry Potter. Many magics is possible for magical creatures."

The dark haired veela pursed his lips. He still wasn't quite convinced. In third year when they studied Dark creatures under Lupin, they hadn't learnt anything about veela having healing powers. And Malfoy certainly hadn't demostrated any. But then again, Lupin wasn't a veela and the Slytherin hadn't quite taught him that much yet. "Well, I'll see if it's possible, I guess," said Harry half-heartedly.

Dobby frowned and opened his mouth to elaborate more but was prevented just then by the arrival of a flurry of skirts when Winky plopped into the chair next to him. "Is you knowing what Professor Snape is doing, Dobby?" she asked in a shrill indignant voice. "He is not eating his breakfast!" she continued. "He is telling me to send messages and is going to the Headmaster's Office, but he is not bothering to follow what Winky is saying at all!" she finished, red in the face from anger.

Harry gaped, shocked by the difference between the fiery house elf he saw before him and his memory of her sobbing and drunk with butterbeer. "Er…"

"Winky is knowing he is not sleeping last night. Winky is seeing him with potions and potions and potions!" she said, glaring at Dobby as if it was his fault.

"Well, he is a Potions Master, Winky," Harry tried to placate her. "He's got to do a little research now and then…"

"Research? Pah!" Winky said dismissively. "Why, he is not doing research at all last night. He is only staring at hair. Why is Professor Snape sir researching hair? He is not going bald. His hair is fine!" she fumed. "He is not taking care of himself, and he is telling Winky not to-"

"Hair?" Harry asked, a thought suddenly occurring to him. Could it be that… "Winky, what was Snape doing with the hair?" he asked urgently.

"Hmph. He is touching it and smelling it, and looking at it through glass. He is cutting it and dipping it in potions as if he is never seeing hair before!" she elaborated, waving small hands in the air. "Winky is making a fire in his bedroom, and closing the windows and he is ignoring Winky when Winky is telling him it is past midnight," she complained frustratedly and pulled at the layers of aprons she wore that merged into a sort of raggedy dress. "It is no use, Winky is…" she added in sorrow, tearing a rent in a flowery ruffle.

"Winky is not thinking that!" Dobby insisted, reaching out to prevent her from ruining her skirts. "Winky is just having to try harder."

"Winky is trying so hard already," she answered bitterly. "What is Dobby thinking? Professor Snape sir is not like Harry Potter, he is not listening to Winky like Harry Potter is listening to Dobby!"

"Then maybe Harry Potter can help Winky," Dobby said hopefully, looking at Harry. "Harry Potter can tell Professor Snape that Winky is only trying to take care of him."

Harry didn't respond. He hadn't heard anything much after what Winky had said about Professor Snape researching the hair. _His_ hair. The veela felt a rush of anger, thinking about how his professor had stolen the hair and had even performed tests on it, like he was some kind of specimen that could be dissected and experimented on. And now he had gone to Dumbledore, to spill the beans about Harry. "The bloody prat!" he spat, standing up suddenly. "I'm going to stop him!" he said, charging through a throng of house elves and out of the kitchens.

Dobby sighed as he and Winky stared after Harry's disappearance. "Harry Potter is not listening to Dobby either, Winky," he said mournfully. "Winky is just having to try harder herself."

Winky turned to face him, face filled with indignance. "Professor Snape sir is _not_ a bloody prat!" she said, getting up and flouncing her skirts. "And Winky is not needing Harry Potter's help!"

Dobby sighed, and watched as Winky disappeared the same way Harry had gone. "Dobby is only trying to help," he groused.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Dumbledore's Office//

Dumbledore sat quietly at his table and let his thoughts flow as they would. He had noticed a long time ago, that merely letting his mind free to ramble through his worries brought up ideas and greatly needed solutions. Sometimes instinctively, his mind would dwell on separate events and tie them together, making insignificant details suddenly fall in place to create a whole picture. He had a feeling right now, that it was going to happen… any moment now.

"Headmaster, a student to see you," said Dippet from his portrait.

Dumbledore sighed, resigning himself to the interruption, "Very well." He looked into a silver mirror on his desk and saw through the eyes of his gargoyle the very crux of the problem he had been contemplating. "Ah, best to let him in," he said, allowing entry.

Moments later, a knock sounded at his door, and he swung it open with a wave of his hand. "Harry, how good to see you," said Dumbledore, as he looked up to take in the boy's appearance. Harry's hair was windblown and there were grass stains and dirty smudges all over his clothes, face and arms. Yet for all that, he emanated a subtle attractive glow, and his previously pleasing features were now bewitching in comeliness. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.

Harry didn't answer, and merely stood there at the doorway, looking around the room, then back at Dumbledore with unreadable eyes. Inwardly, Dumbledore sighed. This was the first time Harry was in his room this year and such a change had come over the boy since his fifth year. He no longer trusted and depended on Dumbledore, it seemed. A feeling of bereavement and sadness swept up in Dumbledore's chest as he realised Harry was at a loss at what to say, and didn't feel comfortable in his presence. "Do sit down."

Reluctantly, Harry stepped forward and sat.

"Would you like some tea?" Dumbledore asked, wand ready. "Or some pumpkin juice?" he enquired, trying to mask his disquiet with cheerfulness. "I think the house elfs have managed to procure some from Hogsmeade now that Hagrid's left his pumpkins. Not half as good of course," he rambled on.

"No thanks," said Harry. "I just wanted to…"

"Yes?"

"Ah. Nothing. Dobby asked me to tell Snape to let Winky take care of him."

Dumbledore blinked as Harry winced after his sentence. Clearly this wasn't the topic he had wanted to broach. "Professor Snape, you mean."

"Yes."

"Well… Dobby needn't worry. Professor Snape can take care of himself." He paused. "And in the event that he is too stubborn to do so, Winky is capable of persuading him otherwise."

"She, ah, said he spent the whole of last night researching hair."

"Well, it is his choice how he spends his time, as long as it doesn't interrupt his duties." Was Harry trying to find out whether he knew he was a veela? Severus had not mentioned doing research on hair, yet with the recent goings on, it was fairly obvious to Dumbledore what might induce him to stay up all night studying hair. Did Harry think he didn't know yet? Did he… not want him to know? It hurt to think of it, yet it must be so.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Harry?" he asked hopefully, breaking the silence that had fallen after his reply.

"No sir." Harry said, refusing to reveal his thoughts and emotions.

"You know… if ever you have something to say, I will be ready to hear, Harry," said Dumbledore. A flutter of wings distracted him momentarily and he watched as Fawkes alighted on Harry's arm and bent his head down for him to stroke his feathers, chirping softly as he did so. "I will do all I can to help you."

"Except tell me what I need to know."

Dumbledore froze. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said. He would say it again and again if he had to, for he meant it from the bottom of his heart. But no excuse could undo the hurt he had done to Harry by causing his godfather's death. Guilt and sorrow lay heavy on the boy, and it was because he had thought him too young for such burdens.

"Sorry isn't good enough."

"What would you have me do?"

"I want you to tell me the truth, all the time." Harry looked straight into his eyes. "I want you not to hide things from me."

"Sometimes I can't-"

"You can!" Harry jumped up from his seat. "You could have told me just now, what Snape said to you about me, what he told you about the hair. But you didn't. You're still not doing it!"

"Harry-"

"I know you're keeping things from me, even now!" Harry shouted. "You're planning something behind my back!"

"Harry-"

"I'm not going to let you use me, Dumbledore!" yelled Harry. His breaths were uneven and his face looked set in suspicion and anger. Dumbledore had never seen Harry look this way before.

"I would never use you, Harry. I only want what's best for-"

"For me?" A flash of red seemed to spark at the veela's fingertips.

"Yes," pleaded Dumbledore. If only Harry would calm down. He looked deep into the boy's eyes. "All I've done, I did because I wanted to protect you. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to marr what innocence you still had. I didn't want that knowledge to destroy your hopes or cast a shadow over your future," he said.

Harry's bright green eyes bled to red as his anger grew and Dumbledore was taken aback when sudden hatred bloomed in their depths. Clenching his fists, Harry roared, "You LIE! If you wanted to protect me, you would never have let him die! You were afraid of me, you hated me, you hated that I had HIM in me!"

The fury of his gaze burst into being as heat left the veela's body in streamers of flame, engulfing them both and hazing the air with red light. Amidst the fire, Dumbledore looked into Harry's eyes and felt a sudden calmness fall over himself. He could feel the other's anger and knew in that moment that Harry was lost to him. Not knowing what else to do, he put all his power behind his magic and threw it at the other wizard in a blistering blast of silver light.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: Eeeks. I'm sorry it's been a month… like I said, Finals, then I had to travel, then some family matters… This chapter was hard to write because of all the interruptions. It definitely affected my mood, so I hope it doesn't make the story appear stilted. Please REVIEW and tell me what you thought of it. You guys have no idea how much help you are when you give feedback :P


	8. Chapter 8

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: Merry Christmas! This chapter is shorter than I wanted it to be, it's actually half a chapter. But I thought better half than none, since I wanted to get one out at Christmas.

I read every single one of your reviews, dear readers, even though I didn't reply to all this time (or on time… eeks.) Sorry bout that. I can't answer some questions without giving the story away, so I didn't. And don't worry, Delu, I'll remember and write 'all right', thanks!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 7: Nascent Union

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Riddle Manor//

Warmth emanated from smoldering embers in the fireplace, stealing over Voldemort's limbs and making him drowsy in his armchair. The windows were open as they often were these days, and the room was washed out in the gloom of the morning. Assured by the recent flow of events, he relaxed his mind, letting go of schemes and stratagems and allowing himself to drift to random memories, impressions and fleeting thoughts. Reality for once, didn't exist and couldn't intrude into his mind.

Just as he was ready to fall asleep, Voldemort began to feel uneasy. Like there was something he'd forgotten. He ran through a mental catalogue of all the things he had to do, yet couldn't pinpoint what it was that disturbed him. Sighing, he reached for the remembrall he kept on the table beside his chair and palmed it, causing multicoloured swirls to appear, but no red. The glowing colours were mesmerizing, and as he stared at the ball, he suddenly sensed something.

Quieting his feelings and shielding his thoughts, he dove into the house of his mind. Images and sounds rushed past as he walked the halls of his psyche - impressions he kept of his life, records of his past. Some were clear and prominent, objects of importance to him, relics of times he revisited often in his thoughts. Others were blotchy, insignificant happenings that cluttered his mind till time made them blur and fade.

Deep in the recesses he searched, looking for the source that troubled him. Eventually, he passed an unfamiliar void and stopped to scrutinize it. It was bleak and consuming and as he looked at it, he was struck by how big it was. By now, he had already reached the deepest part of his mind and had passed numerous black spaces that represented the periods of time when he hadn't been himself… years he spent bodiless when he had drifted in spirit and mind. But the strange emptiness was nothing like those spaces, he observed, as he circled it. This one was hungry and expanding, pushing into the ranks of surrounding memories. Momentarily, he wondered if he had found what was left of his soul. Perhaps this was what made him forever unsatisfied, this void that claimed more and more of himself and made him crave ever more power to satiate it.

As he stood observing and feeling the space, he became aware again of the aura he sensed earlier. It seemed to pulse strongly in this area, causing an aching distortion of his surrounding mind. Suddenly, like the flare of a match, the reason for the disturbance struck him. It was legilimency! Someone had been very subtly pushing into him for some time, while he hadn't noticed. How infuriating! Voldemort snarled angrily, then bent his mind to the task of catching the infiltrator.

His first impression as he concentrated was that it was Potter, for he knew they had a connection, and it wouldn't be the first time the boy had wandered into his mind. But then, he began to doubt it as the feeling was too different. The connection was faint yet strong. Whoever had forged it was more shrewd and powerful than the boy who couldn't possibly have nourished their tenuous bond into this. That only left…

As if summoned by his fury, Dumbledore's face flashed in his mind's eye, expression wrought with concern.

Startled, Voldemort hurriedly slammed the doors of his psyche, throwing up random thoughts as obstacles, and erecting barriers by blanking the surface of his mind and fixating on meaningless images and faces. He pulled out of the deep state of meditation he had been in, and gathered his power to strike, letting loose as he felt the other's presence dig into his mind.

All was well at first. He seemed to be winning, he could feel his power pouring off him like a waterfall, and the other wizard was unprepared for the sudden fight.

Then all of a sudden, tremendous pain wracked through his body and he gasped. The agony was unbearable; it was as if someone were pouring molten metal into his veins and squeezing his heart, grinding in all the pain emotion could render. Unnoticed, a tear ran down his face, the first in years, and he raked his chest, trying to claw away the power that ripped through him. Behind his closed eyelids he seemed to see flashing images of Dumbledore as he sent blasts of silver light at him, and of a room ravaged by fire.

Confused and wounded, Voldemort cried out, then retaliated. He attacked as if he wielded a machete, brutally cutting into the other's magical core, laid open from the heart magic during the previous assault. Pain still razed his body, yet he gave as good as he got till the last of his power drained away through the slowly closing connection. Finally, the images stopped, and Voldemort collapsed in his chair, drained and weak from the battle.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Dumbledore's Office//

The foreign magic that suddenly permeated the room filled Winky's heart with fear. Having followed Harry, she had been secretly monitoring the magic in the headmaster's tower, something all house elves did in wizarding households as part of their service to be forever available. She had just wanted to check on Professor Snape sir, and had already begun to leave after detecting that his signature magic wasn't in the room, when the scary magic suddenly erupted. Its power was wild and passionate, with a strength she had never sensed before in her life, despite service to three generations of Crouches. Yet it wasn't the raw might of the magic that made her body freeze up in her hiding place behind the gargoyle, it was the unrestrained way it whipped and fluctuated, making her imagine it tearing into everything in its path.

Just as it seemed like nothing could stop it, another power swarmed the first, urgent and forcefully poignant. Winky waited as the two magical signatures roiled in the chamber, each trying to overcome the other. Finally, everlasting seconds later, they seemed to rupture, dissipating the wild magic and fragmenting its adversary. All was quiet in the room after the ruckus, it seemed like the opposing powers had canceled each other out.

Terror subsiding, Winky decided to obey her instincts and not run. Instead, she cracked into the room, appearing as near the door as she could to survey the aftermath of the turmoil. The interior was ablaze with fire, but other than the flickering licks of flame, no movement could be seen. Winky reached out with her senses, hoping to find the whispers of magic that would tell her there was still life in the room.

Slowly, she became aware of another signature that had been buried beneath the previous chaos. Before her eyes, a golden cage flowered in the midst of the fire, bringing to light two figures felled to the ground within it. Over them a fiery red bird flared its wings, beak open in a trill and feathers streaming magic. Awed by the scene, Winky could do nothing but stare till a beseeching quaver shook the room and jolted her to action. Uttering a soft cry, she cracked away with the afterimage of the inferno branded in her mind.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Hogwart's Hospital Wing//

Remus decided to drop in on Madam Pomfrey before having breakfast as it was late enough in the morning for her to be up and about already. The mediwitch had started a habit of coming down to check on him at his hut these past couple of months, but this time he would save her the trip and let her tend him at the hospital wing. After all, it was no longer a secret that he was a werewolf. Everyone knew exactly what he was now and why he disappeared only to reappear with bruises after every full moon.

As he made his way to the wing on the third floor, Remus wondered again at how easily he had been accepted back at Hogwarts by the staff and the students. There were still those who resented and were afraid of what he was, but as the weeks passed and no one got bitten, the upheaval that had arisen when Dumbledore brought him back had died down.

_I can only hope they will be as accepting of Harry if they find out,_ he thought to himself. Otherwise he would have to see what he could do. Since Sirius' death, Harry had unofficially become his charge, and Remus felt no little responsibility for the young wizard. Harry was the closest he had to family now and was very important to him. He hoped that Harry felt the same way too. It was now time to see whether the boy would accept him as a confidant and guardian now, as well as a teacher.

Contemplating how to approach Harry and what to teach him kept Remus occupied and it seemed he reached the hospital wing in no time at all.

"Good Morning, Poppy," greeted Remus as he entered the wing.

"Oh, Remus!" said Madam Pomfrey, coming to meet him. "Good morning indeed. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. A little sore in places," Remus answered. "Don't let me interrupt your work," he gestured at the piles of clean linens she had been arranging in the cupboard by the door.

"You're not interrupting, Remus. Now let me check you once over," replied Madam Pomfrey, already pulling out her wand and running it over his body. "Hmm… nothing serious for once," she said, smiling at the werewolf. "A mild wound-cleansing potion is all you need before you heal everything. Please disrobe, Remus," she said as she bustled over to a cabinet and picked up a vial filled with purple fluid.

Remus knew better than to mention that werewolves didn't need wound-cleaning potion, he simply took of his cloak and shirt and sat down on the bed nearest the mediwitch. "The others are just scratches, these are the worst of it," he said, gesturing to the gouges in his back and the scrapes and bites on his shoulders and arms.

Madam Pomfrey tutted and frowned but didn't insist on Remus taking off his pants. Instead she pushed him to bend his head down and began to carefully pour the potion over his back and arms, pausing now and then for the resulting smoke to clear. "I remember when you were a boy and we had to do this every month in the Shrieking Shack," she said softly. "All these years and still you get hurt."

Remus winced at the concerned tone in her voice. Madam Pomfrey had been his companion in misery when he suffered from the transformation as a boy. She could never stay while he was a wolf, but she always came armed to the teeth with healing potions and spells once it was all over. After he realised she did not discriminate against him and wouldn't react with hostility, he had even taken to confiding his worries and pains to her, assured that she would keep them secret like his condition. Her support and concern for him had in retrospect done much more for him than all the medicine she administered. "I still get hurt, but at least I'm no longer doing it to myself," he said, his voice muffled from bending over. "I'm past all that, so you needn't worry."

"Yes, wolfsbane is an amazing potion indeed," replied Madam Pomfrey. "But you still end up under my care, Remus." She shook her head as she capped the potion vial. "I do believe you're my most frequent patient, even compared to Harry Potter. And he is in and out of here almost every other month. Try to set a better example, Remus, and keep out of my hospital wing," she said, giving him a stern look.

Remus chuckled at her expression and pulled his shirt and cloak back on. "I don't _need_ to come here, Poppy. I only do it to keep you from worrying," he said, smiling at the indignant expression on her face. "If you really don't want me to come, then stop worrying."

"Hmph. As if I can ever do that," replied Madam Pomfrey. "The minute I turn my back to sit down and have a nice cup of tea, an emergency crops up, whether it's students growing turnips out of their ears or losing all their bones or half drowning in the lake. And you teachers are no better either. Why, just the other day, Professor Vec-"

CRACK!

"_FIRE_!" shrieked a shrill voice as a tiny figure suddenly appeared in their midst. "FIRE! Madam Pomfrey is having to come to the Headmaster's Office, there is being a fire in the room!"

"What?"

"Fire?"

CRACK!

Remus looked around disorientedly as he and Madam Pomfrey suddenly reappeared on the seventh floor. Tendrils of thick smoke curled into the corridor from behind the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's rooms. "What's the password?" he asked, turning to the house elf beside him.

"Ice Mice!" she squeaked as she danced on her feet and wrung her hands. "Please be helping them sir, I is not being able to stop the fire and they is getting hurt!" she cried, turning to Madam Pomfrey.

"Go find Professor McGonagall and Flitwick," Madam Pomfrey urged the house elf as the gargoyle jumped out of place and the spiral stairway came into view. Cutting through smoke, Remus bounded up the stairs followed closely by the mediwitch. "How can Dumbledore let a fire go wild?" she asked as they reached the door.

"I don't know." Remus pulled out his wand. "Reducto!" The spell hit the wood with a loud crash, then zigzagged back to smash the wall behind them. "Damn!"

"Only Dumbledore can open it," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Albus, open the door!" she cried above the roaring crackle of the fire. "Albus!"

Remus hammered another spell at the door, but before the red bolt touched the wood, it banged open. Immediately he jumped inside then ducked as a tongue of fire whipped at him. "Keep back!" he yelled, shoving Madam Pomfrey out the door.

"But what on earth is happening?" cried Madam Pomfrey.

Shaking his head, Remus darted forwards through the chamber, dodging leaping flames of yellow and red. The heat was almost enough to scorch his skin and nothing but his innate healing ability enabled him to make his way across the chamber. With hands shielding his eyes, he charged through the room then burst through a cloud of smoke.

Remus stopped short as he took in the scene. In front of him was Dumbledore's desk and slumped over it was Dumbledore himself as well as Harry. They were both enclosed in resonating gold cords that seemed to stem from Fawkes. The werewolf stared in amazement as tears fell from the phoenix's eyes and dripped like luminescent jewels onto Dumbledore and Harry's faces in turn. Fawkes cocked his head enquiringly at Remus then blinked slowly as if asking him what he was staring at and what had taken him so long.

"All right, all right… let's get them out of here," Remus muttered, throwing his cloak around Harry. "I'm taking him first, you stay with Dumbledore."

Fawkes chirped in agreement and withdrew his protective threads, allowing Remus to haul Harry into his arms. The werewolf jogged back through the flames, deposited Harry with Madam Pomfrey, then went back for Dumbledore. He had to tug the old man over his back fireman style, as he was too tall to carry otherwise. Fawkes accompanied them to the door.

Just as they passed the threshold, a loud whooshing sound ran through the room. Papers began to fly and tables to shake, silver instruments fragmented as they were thrown against walls, and the portraits screamed louder as their frames shook dangerously. The magical fire that clung to everything wavered as a hurricane careened around the room. Suddenly, the walls gave way and folded upon each another, causing the room to collapse like a box. The last thing Remus saw before the door slammed shut was the sooty remains of the fire, blowing away as Hogwarts sealed off the room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Riddle Manor//

The fire had guttered out long minutes ago making the room chilly when the sun moved overhead, but Voldemort couldn't bring himself to care. His body still spasmed and his mind throbbed from the invasion. It was ages since he had been on the wrong end of a Cruciatus curse, yet he was certain that the pain he felt far out shadowed its agony.

Cursing softly, Voldemort pondered on Dumbledore's strange behaviour. The headmaster of Hogwarts had never been so aggressive before despite having discovered Voldemort's weakest point long ago. He had never attacked below the belt as Voldemort considered it, hitting out with Heart magic instead of relying on more conventional and straightforward confrontations. And it wasn't his style at all to burrow into Voldemort's mind.

The dark lord massaged his chest and thought deeper. Dumbledore's expression hadn't been that of a man bent on harming someone. If Voldemort was honest, he would say that at that moment, he had gotten the impression that Dumbledore was more desperate than anything, and that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Perhaps he had struck too soon.

Just as he continued the puzzling line of thought, a series of raps sounded at the door.

"Come in." He straightened in his chair as the door opened, checking to make sure no sign of the fight showed.

"My Lord." A deep nasal voice intoned softly in his chamber, and Snape stepped towards him, black robe trailing on the floor, eyes flashing darkly with purpose. "I have news."

Voldemort sighed. "Harry Potter has become a veela," he paused, watching Snape's eyes widen, "and it happened because you assigned a Transmogrification potion."

Snape breathed shallowly and bowed his head, "Yes."

"It happened over the weekend. I assume you have a reason why you couldn't me inform of this earlier?" The air in the room thickened with the sense of danger as the two men evaluated each other, and Voldemort wondered again whether it was Snape who was the spy. After all, he was smart enough and if he could spy on Dumbledore, then he could also double cross and spy on Voldemort.

"I only became aware of it this morning, my lord. I came here directly after I told Dumbledore." Snape attempted to explain.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the mention of his nemesis' name. "_Crucio_," he leveled his wand at the potions master, and watched him writhe, his mouth open in a silent scream. Snape always tried at first to hide the pain he felt – he must feel that it was debasing – so Voldemort waited till he pulled several hoarse cries from the stubborn wizard. "You told Dumbledore?"

"I-I had to… s-some students… ha… already kn-knew," Snape gasped, digging his fingers into the carpet by Voldemort's chair, and taking several deep breaths before he continued. "I came across Potter just after he ingested the potion. It was impossible that I not know… Dumbledore would have suspected me if I hadn't told him."

He watched as his death eater shakily stood once more, brushing off his robes and resuming his usual posture. "You speak the truth. Yet, for some reason, Dumbledore has targeted me after receiving your information."

Snape immediately looked up directly into Voldemort's eyes, letting him see the veracity of his words, "I don't know why he would do such a thing, My Lord. When we talked, I agreed with him that this matter should not be known to you, but he was resigned that you would know sooner or later. I'm sure he is afraid that you would find a way to manipulate Potter."

Manipulate Potter? Of course he would manipulate Potter. Dumbledore would certainly try to prevent that. But why do so by hitting out at Voldemort before he was supposed to know about the boy? Why use Legilimency? If he wanted to know if Voldemort knew, there were other less risky ways to go about it. This was all wrong, there was something else going on…

Suddenly, it all fell into place. What had occurred just now wasn't an attack!

At least, not for the sake of attacking; rather, it must have been an aggressive attempt at protection! After all, the best defence was an offence. Dumbledore had tried to shield the one who had trespassed into his mind. And who else could that be, but the boy?

Voldemort smiled evilly, amused by Dumbledore's blunder. If he hadn't tried so hard to help Potter, Voldemort wouldn't have realised the boy's increased presence in his mind. They were tied more tightly together than ever, it seemed, and Dumbledore had had no way to split them apart except by throwing himself in their way. And he had given Voldemort a chance to break him.

The dark lord began to laugh maliciously, as he thought of how Dumbledore would feel if he knew what he had just done.

"My Lord?" Snape was no doubt disturbed by his sudden levity. Voldemort stopped chuckling and smiled at his follower.

"Go back to Hogwarts, Severus," he ordered. "Observe Harry Potter and that old fool. Take note of all the people who know about Potter and everyone around him, especially what they do, significant or otherwise. Spy on every step Dumbledore takes, then report back to me when I summon you or when necessary."

"As you wish, my Lord." The death eater retreated slowly, still shuddering slightly from pain.

Voldemort waited till the door clicked shut behind Snape, then settled down again to delve into his mind. The situation was thornier than before with the danger of invoking Dumbledore's wrath - though he was almost certain the other wizard was incapacitated – and of alerting Potter to the fusion of their minds.

For the time being, it was probably safer to scout out the extent of their union. Only then would he be able to take the next step to dominate the boy, and… perhaps, the world through him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

tbc!

A/N: Sorry again for the lack of updates. I've been busy preparing to study abroad next year:P But I'll try harder as the story is getting more interesting… and tougher to write. Just remember, every review is a wake up call for me to sit and write some more! So please REVIEW!

P.S. I realise what happened between Voldemort and Harry is a bit confusing. If it is, do tell me what you don't understand and I'll try to explain more in the next chapter. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

Title: My Evil Veela Mate

Author: Jaeye

Pairing/s: Voldemort/Harry

Warnings: This has slash, and so far, I haven't finished an actual story, so let's hope I finish this one. And it's been sometime since I've read the HP books so I'm a bit rusty in this verse.

Disclaimer: HP and everything recognizable isn't mine.

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken so long. I've finally settled down in Brisbane, Australia, and am beginning my studies at UQ. There's been some ups and downs, and because of that I've found it hard to write. Not having Internet at home hasn't helped at all too. But here's one chapter, (the next is half written ;) and my most sincere apologies!

If you're not satisfied and want to know what I've been doing, or just feel like reading my awful rants, just visit my profile and follow the 'homepage' link to my journal. It's nothing much, but I was thinking of archiving my chapters there too, and when I get more organized, I might even post them there before I post them here:P

Oh, and btw, thanks ever so much for the 142 reviews. I actually copied them all down and saved it on my com, so that I could read them and feel inspired and appreciated whenever I felt down :)

And that's it! Now enough of author's notes (essays) and on with the story!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chapter 8: Espionage

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//Hospital Wing//

Harry came awake slowly, feeling snug and comfortable in soft blankets that were tucked around him, keeping him warm and safely cocooned. He lay content a moment longer till memories washed over him, making him sit up abruptly.

"Oh, Harry… you're awake!" Hermione said, getting up from a chair to sit beside him on his bed. She handed him his glasses from the bedside able. "I was so worried!"

Ron kept his seat beside hers, but smiled in relief at Harry. "How are you feeling, mate? You were out for hours, Hermione was going crazy."

His throat felt scratchy and his head felt like it had been blown up from the inside. "Okay, I guess… what am I doing here?" He was in the hospital wing, in a bed by the window on the far side of the room.

"Madam Pomfrey and Professor Lupin brought you in here in the morning. You were unconscious," Ron answered. "We only got to know about it around lunchtime when I woke up and couldn't find you, Harry. What happened?"

"Err… I'm not sure," Harry replied, not keen on relating his temper tantrum with Dumbledore. "What did they tell you happened?"

Hermione gave him a considering look before answering. "Well, Professor Lupin told us that Winky found the Headmaster's room on fire, but couldn't put it out, so she went to get him and Madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, Fawkes shielded the both of you before they arrived. Apparently he wept on your faces to prevent your dying from inhaling smoke, and kept the flames from your bodies." Hermione frowned. "But Madam Pomfrey said you still suffered from mild burns and scorching because the heat was so intense. Hogwarts had to cordon off the room after they got you out to prevent it from spreading."

"Cordon off?"

"The room disappeared," Ron explained. "Lupin said Hogwarts does that sometimes to rooms that aren't needed or that are dangerously wrecked… they don't even show up on the Marauder's Map after that."

"Oh." said Harry.

"So… tell us what happened," Hermione insisted. "How did the both of you end up hurt?"

"Well, you know last night I went for detention," Harry said slowly, proceeding to relate all that had happened the previous night.

When he got to the part about Snape stealing his hair, Ron interrupted, eyes wide, "He took _hair_ from you? Why on earth did you let him?"

Harry shrugged, "He didn't ask, okay, and I wasn't expecting it. If I'd wanted it back, he'd know for sure that I was hiding something."

"You're right… and we've underestimated him. Now Snape knows about you too." Hermione said thoughtfully. "Then what happened?"

"Well, I didn't find any shadowroot last night," Harry said, glossing over his meeting with Malfoy. "In the morning I had breakfast with Dobby who by the way, knows about me too." His lips twitching as Ron and Hermione exclaimed in surprise. It made him feel better somehow to be the one causing that stunned expression and not making it himself. Perversely feeling more cheerful, Harry related everything that Dobby and Winky had told him.

"So I went to talk with Dumbledore… because I thought that Snape told him that I'm a… a You-Know-What," Harry said, lowering his voice and glancing around the Hospital Wing which seemed empty at the moment excepting several occupied beds nearer the entrance. "But Dumbledore wouldn't admit that he knew," he continued. "It was as if he wanted to test me, to see if I'll trust him, or if he can get away with keeping it from me."

Ron frowned, pursing his lips, "You're sure he knew?"

"Of course he knew! He had that look in his eyes. And anyway, he's kept a lot of things from me; I know that's the way he thinks." Harry paused, not liking the looks Ron and Hermione were giving him - like they didn't believe him, or didn't think he understood what he was saying. "What's the matter?"

"You didn't actually ask him whether he knew, did you, Harry?" Hermione asked reprovingly. "You got angry just like that."

The three fell silent for a while as Harry gazed at Hermione. "What are you going on about, Hermione?" He glanced at Ron, but Ron just looked glumly back at him.

"I'm saying, that… it's highly possible, that you jumped to conclusions and… don't get angry with me, Harry," said Hermione worriedly as he glared at her, "but I think that… probably… you were the one who started the fire."

"_What_?" Harry exclaimed.

"She doesn't mean-"

"You're saying I _meant_ to burn us alive?" Incredulous, Harry turned to Ron. "And you believe her?"

"That's just it, Harry, you-"

"I never cast Incendio, okay? I didn't even know the room was on fire till I smelled the smoke!"

"It _must_ have been you, Harry. Dumbledore would never have been so rash-"

"Oh, so it must have been _me_, because it was _rash_."

"She's not saying-"

"Of course, she is. You heard her, Ron! She thinks I set the bloody room on fire!"

"You don't understand Harry-"

Hermione tried to take his hand, but he shook her off. "Of course I understand!"

"No, you don't!" Ron said heatedly as Hermione withdrew with a hurt expression, "and you should _bloody listen_ so you do!"

Falling silent as Ron got up and stood by his bed, Harry craned his neck to see his face. "I'm listening," he shot out. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that what Hermione meant, and what _we_ mean is… that you set the room on fire, because you got angry, and _that's_ what veela tend to do when they're angry."

Ron continued when Harry didn't interrupt. "Remember at the World Cup? All those veela started to throw balls of fire. You must have done the same thing, not on purpose maybe, but accidentally, when you felt angry."

"Or threatened."

All three heads snapped up and around like whiplash as they turned to spot the intruder. Approaching them from the other side of Harry's bed was Remus, looking tired with his brown hair standing up every which way and his clothes more rumpled than usual. His eyes gleamed gold as he looked at each of them, and Harry was reminded that last night there had been a full moon.

"Oh, Professor Lupin," greeted Hermione. "How's Professor Dumbledore?"

"He's still at St. Mungo's. When I left, they were still puzzled as to how he had been afflicted."

Harry frowned. "Wasn't it the fire?"

"No, his injuries are different from yours were. We can't quite tell what's wrong with him." Remus turned to Harry. "Which is why we need to know everything you can tell us about what happened in that room."

Silence reigned as Lupin, Hermione and Ron looked at Harry and Harry looked back. "First, what did you mean by what you said earlier?"

"When I commented that veela also create fire when they feel threatened? I was just explaining one of their traits. I'll be teaching you more about them, Harry, now that you are one."

The bombshells just kept coming. Harry was tired of feeling shocked and suspicious from having people confess to him that they knew all about his secret. "Snape told Dumbledore who told you," he said accusingly.

"Harry, we're not trying to intrude on your life, and we're not spying on you." Or rather, not all of them were, thought Remus. The level of scrutiny Dumbledore put Harry under, did sometimes bother Remus. "But something like this is hard to hide, and you're not equipped with the knowledge to conceal yourself."

"So all of you have a right to just barge in and decide what's best for me?"

"Harry, you know Lupin doesn't mean that. He's just trying to help. We all are." Hermione said, reaching out to touch his arm. "Please don't be like this."

Harry took a deep breath, then sighed, nodding slowly. Hermione was right as usual. There was no reason to be belligerent to Lupin – he had always helped guide him and never once betrayed him. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Remus shook his head, "Don't apologise, Harry. I know how you feel. I felt the same way when James and Sirius told me they found out I was a werewolf. Suddenly everyone knows your deepest darkest secret, and they all think they have a right to help. They don't understand you're still trying to take in the fact that they know." He grinned. "It kind of makes you feel frustrated, doesn't it?"

Harry smiled weakly, relieved that Lupin empathized and wasn't affronted. "Yeah… I'm still wondering who else knows now."

"Nobody but me, Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore and Ron and Hermione here, as far as I know," said Lupin.

"And we won't tell anyone, Harry," Hermione said, looking to Ron for confirmation. "You don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah, mate, you can trust us," Ron grinned. "Like you always have. So quit worrying, all right?"

"All right," answered Harry softly. "Thanks."

"Good," said Lupin. "Now we have this sorted out, Harry, please explain what happened."

"I don't really recall. I just know I went to talk with Dumbledore, and then we started arguing… I was angry with him because, I don't know if you heard, Professor," Harry said, "but it seemed to me like he was hiding the fact that he knew I was a veela."

"And that naturally made you feel suspicious," Lupin said understandingly. "Dumbledore does that sometimes. I think it's because he'd rather hear you tell him about it, and if you don't then he acts as if he doesn't know, either because he thinks you understand he'll keep it secret or because he doesn't want to alert you to the fact that he knows, for some reason or other. It's a rather annoying habit of his. If you didn't already know that he knew, then he would have gotten away with it. It's useful when he's dealing with untrustworthy people, but perhaps this wasn't an occasion for it."

Harry nodded dubiously then continued. "Anyway, it made me very angry, so I shouted at him. Then, I think I..."

"What, Harry?" Hermione urged.

"I didn't purposely set the room on fire," Harry said defiantly to her. "But… I… lost control, I guess. I could feel my magic build, and I knew Dumbledore was concerned, but… I was so furious. I just wanted him to know that I hated that he kept things from me. I wanted to… to hurt him…" he felt horrible, admitting it now, "but I _didn't_."

Harry looked earnestly at Lupin as he stressed, "I wanted to, but I didn't. I didn't do any magic. I just felt like it, that's all."

"You… didn't throw any fireballs?" Ron asked, then quailed slightly, making flapping motions with his hands when Harry glared at him. "All right, all right, you didn't… I was just asking."

"So then how did the fire actually start?" asked Hermione.

"Veela don't need to physically throw balls of flame to cause fire, it's just a way to focus the element. While I'm almost sure Harry started the fire, probably by unconsciously creating tiny magical sparks, I'm more interested in the fact that he says he didn't manipulate any magic, but Dumbledore still suffered from a magical attack," Remus mused. "There's something we're missing here…" he trailed off, while they puzzled over his words.

"So… Harry _did_ start the fire, but that's not the real issue because Dumbledore should have been able to stop him, except Dumbledore was hurt by magic from unknown sources even though Harry didn't focus a magical attack on him?" Ron asked, speaking slowly as he summarized everything.

"Correct, Ron," Remus said smiling slightly. "What you told me, Harry, confirms the reason why Dumbledore's injuries are different from yours. You both suffered from slight burns and smoke, though it would have been worse without Fawkes protecting you, but Dumbledore has also sustained incredible damage on a magical level. All St. Mungo's mediwizards and witches are willing to tell us is that he needs a lot of rest and that he has to be confined because his magic is unstable."

"Unstable?" gasped Hermione. "What could possibly cause that?"

"Nothing that Harry is capable of, I'm sure," said Remus gravely.

They fell silent again for a while, each of them wondering what had happened. Harry wondered whether he should be feeling guilty about what had happened to Dumbledore, but… he truly didn't believe he had hurt the old wizard. He couldn't imagine that there was anything he could do that would even put a dent in Dumbledore's floppy pointed hat. And he had no idea why or how such an intense magical attack could have occurred. So he dwelled instead on the fact that he had unconsciously channeled magic, something that he hadn't done since before he came to Hogwarts.

"Is there… a way to not loose control again?" he asked Lupin, anxious to not repeat the incident.

Remus blinked as his mind was diverted again from pondering Dumbledore's situation. "Ah… well… in your case Harry…" he paused, "it's quite similar actually to what you had to learn to do when you came to Hogwarts. Except harder, I guess. You see, veela have very volatile tempers and are prone to loosing control. They're very passionate."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I guess that explains why the ferret's always throwing tantrums."

"Actually, Mr. Malfoy strikes me as having a very contained personality… quite like his father," Remus said, smiling at Ron. "Not all veela have magic, you know, excepting the innate magic they have as magical creatures. A few however, like the Malfoys and Fleur for example, are capable of wielding wands. These veela learn early on to get a firm grip on their emotions. And I daresay… the intensity of their feelings and their amazing restraint makes for very strong wizards and witches. Not always in terms of raw power, but in terms of better control and command of their abilities."

"That's interesting," Hermione said. "Most veela learn to deal with their own powers first then magic, but it's going to be the reverse for Harry…" she glanced at her friend, "it's probably going to be very tough. After all, veelas are born with instincts but Harry has inherited none."

Harry watched as Remus blinked, realizing the truth of her words. "That's very perceptive of you, Hermione. But only time will show if Harry has any innate knowledge. It's not something I know how to test."

"But you can teach him if he doesn't know, right, Professor?" Ron asked anxiously. "I mean… Harry needs help!"

"I'll do my best, as Dumbledore requested. I would have tried to help anyway, as soon as I found out," said Remus. "But for now, what you need most isn't more knowledge, its rest, Harry."

Harry nodded. He still felt a little weak from channeling so much magic. This whole business with being a veela was getting more and more complicated, what with uncontrollable magic and spontaneous mood swings. And to think it all stemmed from that stupid Transmogrification potion. He should have just told Snape where he could shove it. After all, the slimy git had known all along that Malfoy was the one who had wrecked his potion, and yet he hadn't even given him detention. _I should have tied Malfoy to a tree and let those satyrs have at him,_ Harry thought as he recalled their encounter last night.

"What are you scowling at, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Lupin's right, you need to rest."

"I know, Mione," he replied, schooling his expression. "I just recalled that tonight I have to get shadowroot since I couldn't find any yesterday."

"Shadowroot?" Lupin asked, perking up slightly. "Why are you looking for shadowroot?"

"Snape wants it," sighed Harry. "It's part of my detention."

Lupin scratched his chin to hide his twitching lips as he regarded Harry's glum face. "Well, if you don't want to spend more time looking for it, I can take you to a patch I know, it's rather deep in the Forest, but I'm very familiar with the way," he offered. "I frequent it often."

"Really?"

"Really." Harry smiled gratefully as Lupin rose from the foot of his bed. "I'm going back to St. Mungo's now, but I'll meet you here at around eleven tonight. You lot take care, okay, and in the mean time, make sure he doesn't get up and about or Madam Pomfrey will think I allowed it," he said, directing the last bit to Hermione and Ron.

"Sure, Professor," said Hermione as Ron nodded. "Harry will be fine here," she reassured him.

"Fine but bored," complained Harry as Lupin left the Hospital Wing. "What am I going to do till tonight?"

"Well, I'm going to get some books from the library. You should learn about how to control your magic, and I want to find out more about the magical fire."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You go on, Hermione. I think he needs a break from all the veela-ness. How about Exploding Snap instead?" he asked Harry, pulling out a deck of shuffled cards and dividing it into two.

"Great!" replied Harry, making space on his bed. "I'll read your books later, Mione," he said absently to her, laying down a mismatched card beside Ron's. "Snap. Oh wait! Oops…"

Hermione slipped away as the cards exploded, shaking her head at their antics, and wondering when Madam Pomfrey would pop in and start scolding them for ruining her bedsheets and disrupting the peace in the Hospital Wing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

//The Forbidden Forest//

Remus inhaled deeply, enjoying the rich scent of the crisp night air. The wind buffeted the trees, making them shed their leaves to join its dance through the forest.

By his side walked Harry, a dark shadow in black except where his skin gleamed in the moonlight. The veela had been quiet since leaving the castle, only enquiring once about Dumbledore's condition. Remus was content with the silence though. He knew there were many things Harry had to think about, and knew that the boy would soon be interested in finding out what Remus could tell him. The only thing that troubled him was his certainty that what he knew was not enough for Harry. He already dreaded the day when Harry would come to him, needing help that he couldn't give.

Sighing, Remus thought, as he sometimes did when he felt too lonely or when trouble had knocked several times too many on his door, _Maybe… it would have been better to have accepted his offer…_

"Remus?" Harry's voice jolted him from his reverie, and he turned to his side, then further back to face Harry who had stopped several paces behind him. "Is it any further? It's been an hour and a half already… and I've never been here before."

He glanced around, surprised that he had lost track of how long they had been walking. The forest was darker now than it usually was, even at night, because they were nearing a particularly dense thicket; the trees were huddled close together with intertwining branches, blotting out the stars with their leaves. The undergrowth had also thickened until it was hard to find a place to step without treading on a root or stone or slipping on moss and plants.

"We're almost there, Harry." He looked back at Harry and beckoned him. "Watch your step though; there are creatures that live in the undergrowth."

He waited till Harry reached his side then moved to lead the way. The further they went, the closer the trees crowded, until Remus had to help Harry climb and squeeze his way through. It was puzzling at first, how tough it was to get there, until Remus realized that they were both human and lacked the physical abilities he had in wolf form.

"Is it much further?" Harry gasped as Remus helped him pull his leg out of a deep hollow he had stumbled into. "And I think that's a snake, so please don't move."

Remus startled as something slithered pass, feeling it push him aside with powerful coils. "Merlin!"

"It's all right," Harry whispered between clenched teeth while hissing softly under his breath. "I didn't hurt it, and it's just going out to hunt. It lives in this network of tunnels… I think I crashed one of them," he explained with remorse.

Remus eyed the snake till its swishing tail disappeared from view, glad that Harry was with him. Werewolf or not, a bite from a snake like that would hurt like hell until his body neutralized the venom and healed the bite. "Are you all right?" he asked the veela.

"My foot hurts a little, I think I sprained it just now," replied Harry, grimacing as he tested his right foot on the forest floor. "But it's not that bad, I can walk with it." He proved it by limping on, keeping his weight on his left foot.

"Well… the clearing's just ahead," said Remus. "I'll heal it when we reach there." he reached out and took Harry's arm, letting him lean against his shoulder whenever he needed to.

Several minutes later, they pushed their way through thick, close set tree trunks and stepped into a hidden copse where Remus stopped as Harry paused in wonder. They had left the towering forest behind them and stepped into a clearing where the trees were white and slender, with many small leaves that allowed the moonlight to speckle the ground. Beneath their graceful branches, the earth was blanketed in purple flowers the size of a baby's fist. As the wind blew, silver pollen streamed from the purple blossoms, making the air glitter and casting a magical aura over the scene.

"Is this it?" Harry asked softly, awed by the sudden appearance of beauty in the midst of the murky forest.

"Yes," replied Remus. "the roots of the purple flowers are the shadowroot you're looking for." He walked forward until they stood in the center of the clearing beneath one of the white barked trees, then pushed Harry down to sit. "Let me see your foot."

Harry tugged off his shoe and sock, and Remus knelt by his side, picking up his foot to test the ankle. He felt it carefully, then after making sure none of the small bones were broken, healed the inflammation with a muttered spell. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks," said Harry, as he stood and walked a bit. "It doesn't hurt anymore," he said, smiling gratefully.

"Good. Now let's see about getting you some shadowroot." Remus replied.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He appeared. A shadow in black, he dropped to his fours and shrank upon himself, growing small and furry till his belly touched the floor. Then he squirmed away from his fallen clothes, burrowing through the folds till he was free.

What a joy it was then, to scurry. Uninhibited, unwatched, unfettered, and able to crouch close to the ground and whip his tail as he so chose. He squeaked loud and clear, delighting in the sound as it was drowned in the rhythmic cacophony of the forest. For a second he foraged, picking up a little brown seed and gnawing on the skin, breaking through to the soft white flesh beneath. He gnashed with sharp teeth till it crumbled, and spread in a sweet paste over his tongue.

Then susurrations in the wind told him where they were, and he ran, ran, ran, zigzagging through the grass, till he stopped, twitching nose and perking ears, feeling the thump of big feet treading near. He darted around, searching for a sheltered nook and barely reaching it before they passed him by.

Two big humans, he saw - one a veela the other a werewolf. His mind quickened as he identified his quarry. Soon they passed, their legs carrying them further than his carried him. But he was quicker and craftier and managed to keep apace even as he circled around to see them head on, training his eyes on their faces and bodies.

Suddenly, the veela stumbled, and the ground reverberated beneath his little paws as something crumbled deep beneath them. Startling, he paused and crouched against the heaving earth, nervously stroking his nose to smooth the hairs that stood on end. Peripherally, he saw the veela grimace in pain and the werewolf steady him as they tried to free his trapped foot, but all his attention was focused mainly on a quivering mound nearby.

Gradually from the soft dark soil, a black diamond shaped head appeared, followed by a long sinuous body that slithered out, seemingly unending, as if it stemmed from the very bowels of the earth. He froze in place till the snake turned and a long tongue peeked out to wave in the air, forked ends reaching toward him. Then with a desperate squeak, he fled.

The only clear way was towards the veela, so he streaked pass, only sparing a glance to see the veela blanche as his foot was wrenched free. The sight jolted his memory, and with another fearful squeak, he dodged the fast approaching jaws of the snake and clawed his way up a tree with ragged bark. He had barely escaped a painful death, but he knew worse awaited him if he abandoned his mission now.

With the threat of the snake foremost on his mind, he nevertheless turned and trained his eyes again on the veela and werewolf. They were moving forwards so he did too, keeping apace again by jumping from branch to branch.

Soon though, the web of branches ended in an open space. Hearing the snake rustling beneath, he reacted hastily and took a flying leap from the farthest reaching branch, hoping to gain a head start.

As he crashed towards the ground, he saw the snake gain on him and bend its head back toward him. Blood rushed through his head and horror struck, he could only watch as it opened its maw, blue black lips stretched to accommodate his size, tail whipping as it positioned itself.

Falling swiftly into the gaping blackness, he held his right paw before him, and as he fell, desperately ripped blindly with all his might. The silver appendage flashed bright for an instant before flesh tore, spilling steaming hot blood onto everything.

Time seemed to stand still then, and all he was aware of were fleet impressions. He was suddenly on the ground against wet scales. The air was no longer cold, but heavy with the scent and warmth of blood. His paw ached and his body felt crushed - every breath drawn was a shard of pain. Thick, salty liquid slid heavily down his throat and a bitter taste spread over his tongue. The ground thundered as voices approached.

Hurriedly, he twisted his silver hand out from under the coils of the dying snake and concentrated with all his might, focusing his mind on the magic that made it. Just before discovery was imminent, the magic rippled and suddenly everything became blurry as he traveled through space, hurtled through and guided by his Master's power.

And all too soon, he landed with a harsh thump upon a scratchy carpet.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Tbc!

A/N: Yes, still no Voldie/Harry yet. But still… there can't be lovely nookie at all times! I'm actually trying to arrange things for the later chapters… but if you have something to say, or just want to encourage me, please don't hesitate to REVIEW!


End file.
